People Who Cared
by Lilith33
Summary: Let’s go back to the Marauder’s era to see if one drastic experience can change Severus Snape’s view of people he swore to hate with all his might. And what would it mean to 11 year old Harry Potter? AU, Snape mentors Harry.
1. Chapter 1

The standard disclaimer goes here.

**People who cared**

1.

"Is that the place?"

"How the hell would I know? You've made the map, after all."

"I've done it basing on your Pensieve memories, you useless piece of dragon dung!"

"Easy, Severus. No need to get nervous. It's not the last time the Dark Lord was angry at you. You will eventually get used to it, like to the breakfast you eat every day."

"I DO NOT eat breakfast. Waste of time, that is. And, back to my original question: Is that the bloody place?"

Lucius took a good look at the complete darkness surrounding them. In the faint wandlight oddly shaped trees were looming over them forebodingly. He sniffed disdainfully. "Looks right to me. Like the place evil overlords are choosing to hide their most precious items. You go first, Snape."

"Wonderful." Severus sneered, trying to stifle the feeling of dread that was trying to overwhelm him. He didn't like this mission the last bit. Only yesterday he overheard prophecy about the Dark Lord's demise (or maybe only a half of it, he wasn't that sure) and passed it to Voldemort. To Severus' displeasure, the Dark Lord wasn't even remotely happy about it. He literally threw him out of his chamber and ever since he was treating him oddly indifferently. Was he suspecting that Snape's cover was blown? Impossible. From three people that happened to be there, one was oblivated, the second was too confused to properly register things happening around her while Dumbledore himself… Guessing by Hogwart's Headmaster's previous tactics he wasn't interested in revealing this piece of highly useful information. The worst Severus expected from him was the blackmail.

Was the Dark Lord thinking he is hiding something from him? Or considering saving Lord's future infant victims? A laughable idea. Voldemort trusted him as much as he was able to trust anyone and Severus felt very safe with his trust. He praised Severus with every new potion invented and, what was the most delightful thing, he was doing it publicly. Severus felt important for the very first time in his life. He felt useful. He would do nothing to hazard this trust.

With this resolve in mind he strode into the unknown forest, a rather imprecise map in his hand, a lighted wand in the other, Malfoy at his tail. He went in the direction, where the moonwillow was supposed to grow – from that point it would be no more than one hundred steps to the clearing where that blasted thing, whatever it was, was hidden. He smelled the fresh menthol-like aroma of the tree even before he saw it, glimmering between the branches.

He moved faster, his eyes glued to the immensely beautiful sight before him. Then, he tripped.

The next five seconds were blurry in Severus' mind. He sensed the ground under him disappear with a thundering crash. He desperately dug his fingers into the soft soil but his body pulled him down.

He fell on something soft, giving out a distressed cry.

He rose to a sitting position and shook his head to clear it. Miraculously, he was whole. He looked up. The silvery outline of the hole could be barely seen some five meters above his head.

"Lucius!" he roared. "Lucius!"

No sound.

"Lucius!" He was getting desperate. "LUCIUS! Get me out of here!"

Again, nothing. He jumped on his feet and started yelling for help. When there was no response, he fell on his knees in a desperate search of his wand. Without light, it was a lost case. He tried a wandless Lumos, but it didn't work. He moved around in circles, hoping the wand was buried under the loose soil. He was so engrossed in his search that he barely registered the odd clicking sound. When he realized that the owner of this sound is directly before him, it was too late to dodge.

"Oh, sh- " meowed Snape, as the enormous spider, as fast as the lightening, moved to pin him down to the ground. He was overthrown on his back and stared straight at the monstrous multiple eyes hovering over him. Severus whined and tried to move his hands, to kick the ugly head, to do _anything_…

He couldn't. For the moment, the most crucial moment in his life, his body was absolutely paralyzed with fear. Useless. Like some visitor in the Pensieve, he was only able to observe the acromantula move it's ugly, fur covered head, it's tentacles trembling slightly, like it was sniffing him.

Suddenly, it struck.

The ten inches long sting sank in Severus' belly. His ear-piercing shriek reverberated in the cave and his legs kicked out. But at this time the spider already moved to the other side of the cave, from where it stared at it's future meal with all the eight of his eyes, patiently waiting for the poison to start working.

Snape curled in a tight ball, holding his stomach and whimpering, all alone in his little world of dull pain. The blood was thundering in his ears, the muscles weakening. Oh, but he was dying…

He wasn't sure which part of his brain cursed his stupidity and ordered him to run.

By sheer force of will he managed to kneel and, on four limbs, move forward. It was a slow and painful way, but this stubborn part of his mind refused to surrender. It told him it would be chicken to simply lie down and let this monster feed on his unmoving body. So he went.

When he reached the wall of the cave, no more than six meters later, he was covered in sweat and panting. His traitorous limbs trembled under him and his bowels felt worse than a Cruciatus. But he clenched his teeth stubbornly, tears falling freely down his face. With his hands, he started to feel for any hidden exit or even a niche. It was a cave, there _had_ to be one. Please, let it be, he thought desperately.

After next three meters along the wall, he suddenly fingered a missing piece of wall and sighed with relief. The break in the stone was so narrow that he had to crawl into it, but it was better than nothing.

Gradually, he squeezed his head and shoulders through the opening, then crawled a little bit, so every inch of his body was safely enclosed in the small corridor. Deadly tired, he rest his head on his hands.

He fainted.

&&

When he woke up some time later, his lips and tongue were parchment dry and his body burned with fever. He felt odd numbness in the place that was pierced with the acromantula's sting. It was only slightly better than the pain. A fresh scent of water flowing nearby made his tortured senses to call in alarm.

Drink.

He wasn't even aware that he possessed enough power in the weakened limbs to move his pinky. But, somehow, his survival instincts enabled him to do it and more. At a snail's pace, he started to crawl further down the corridor, painful meter after meter. In his post-traumatic haze he took no notice of his robe being torn and his skin being cut by the sharp pieces of stone. Water was the only thing he was able to think about. He was blindly following it's trail like a wounded animal. Oddly, this single-mindedness was making him stronger and more determined.

After what he felt like an eternity, his battered fingers found the water. A tiny streamlet was flowing from under the rocks, unbelievably cold and wonderful. He felt face-first into it, drinking greedily.

When his thirst was satisfied, he felt an overwhelming exhaustion claim his body and mind. He let it.

&&

He was stuck here, that was a fact. Nothing could get his protesting muscles to work again. What was even worse, the strange numbness spread onto the lower part of his body. He could feel his magic fighting the poison, but he knew it was a loosing battle. He would eventually die.

Where, the hell, was Lucius?

&&

"HELP! Please! Somebody help me! Please, oh Merlin, please… HELP!"

&&

Too long, it was too long. A high time to realize that no one was going to save him. It was all a farce. The Dark Lord couldn't care less about what happened to him. Or… Was it arranged?

You fool.

No one gave a heck about him, not even Voldemort. And he, young idiot, thought that outside there was actually somebody who considered him as more than a tool. Somebody who _cared_…

Yes, poor Snivellus. We are perfectly happy knowing, that your ugly body is right now turning into a smelly pulp. Yum, yum! Say hi to worm! And you know what, Snivelly? One day I will find your skeleton and use your skull as a sugar-bowl. A fitting end for an almighty Slytherin, don't you think?

"No!" whimpered Severus. "Please, no!"

"I should have buried you alive when you were an infant, you little toad!" hissed his father. "You are a disgrace to our family!"

He called for help. And again. And again.

Two hours later found him trembling from everlasting fever, black eyes widely open, calling still. Only this time, his voice was only a hoarse whisper.

&&

His very tissues were turning into a spider food. He was barely breathing.

My body! Oh no! My body! My body…

&&

"Is anybody here?"

_To Be Continued…_

A/N:  To whom belonged this voice? And what would happen to poor Severus? Will he live? This and more in the next chapter! Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. But you've already known that.

**People who cared**

2.

Sometimes it's a mere luck that changes our life for good. Luckily, that day a very little owl, dripping with water from the rainy weather outside reached it's destination which happened to be James Potter's house. Luckily, he was inside, nursing his heir and beloved son, one Harry Potter, so he was able to immediately read his mail. Luckily, five minutes later, muttering obscenities under his breath, he opened a Floo connection and discovered that his long-term friend, Sirius Black, was also present. So he really had no choice but obey the orders.

"We need to be off to bloody Scotland in the matter of hours, Siri" he deadpanned, while riding Harry on his lap. His son gurgled happily, oblivious to the extra-important matters his father was dealing with. "One idiot told second idiot who passed to the third idiot the information, that the first idiot found the place which holds Voldemort's interest. So Dumbledore sends us, as the smart ones, to investigate it. He is very insistent that we deal with the problem immediately."

"Da!" confirmed Harry.

"Hey, little monkey, you were supposed to be on our side!" scolded him Sirius, his head grinning widely amongst the greenish flames. Harry giggled and extended his chubby finger to poke Sirius' nose. "Definitely, he has too much Lily in him."

"And that is wrong why?" spoke an disapproving voice, belonging to no one but James' wife herself. She stood behind her husband unsuspecting back, tapping her foot. She took her son without preambles and cradled him in her arms. "Good that he has some reason within himself. Now we both are going to have a dinner and you two get to work. Voldemort won't be waiting till you move your fat asses and start doing something to bring him down. Have a nice day." With this charming words she marched out, Harry waving goodbye to his dad.

"Are you sure you don't want to disappear without trace? My family have a nice cottage on Bahamas…" whispered Sirius, winking madly.

James rolled his eyes. "Oh, Padfoot. Do grow up. We have a war to fight. Ah, coming back to war, meet me in London, the usual place. Twelve o'clock. Take a broom with yourself. I hope there would be some asses to kick. I'm in a dire need of a fight."

&&

That was exactly why, three hours twenty minutes later our two heroes slowly circled the gloomy moor in the northern lands of Scotland and, finding no real activity in it, human or otherwise, they landed in the clearing that looked the most promising. Sirius gave one of the more unpleasantly looking trees a cold, long stare, but there was, of course, no answer. James kicked a pebble. He had a long-suffering smile on his face.

"So what?" asked Black, disinterestedly staring at the damp grass. A squirrel disappeared between the branches. "We send Dumbledore a note: 'No Death Eater activity detected' and take our asses out of here? It sounds reasonable."

James shrugged. "Why not to explore a bit? Just to be sure? I have seen a moonwillow somewhere nearby, the grain is used to make some best sweets in the world. We take a bit for Dumbledore and he would be so delighted that he will forget about this failure of a mission."

"James, Merlin's pants, aren't you a genius?" Sirius laughed humorlessly. James pouted theatrically and Black patted his black consolingly. That moment, something hooted in the thicket, making our heroes jerk and rise their wands. "Remember my words, old pal, as they may save you in the near future" whispered Sirius, while scanning the surroundings for something even remotely suspicious. "Under this sweet-spellotaped layers, Dumbledore is a tough bastard. He will have your head on a gold platter and will send it to Voldemort if he thinks it would help our case."

"And how would you come to that conclusion?"

"It's politics." Sirius grinned mischievously.

"Politics? Gryffindor help me, maybe it's not too late to join the Death- Ow, Padfoot, it hurts!"

Sirius' grin was even more pronounced.

"OK, enough of this jabbering. Let's get to the matter of hand."

"Which way, Prongs?"

"Er…" James scratched his head. The thing was, he forgot. "This!" He decided, pointing at the chance direction.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Take my broom" he ordered and in the blink of an eye changed into a monstrous black dog. He sniffed the air once and run into a forest.

"Hey, wait for me, you mongrel!" roared James, galloping after him.

It was a sweaty, deadly tired and decidedly put-off Potter, that eventually caught a sight of his irritating friend. The dog was sniffing around something what looked like a small hole in the ground. Seeing James, he barked and sat down.

"What's the meaning of this?" snapped Potter.

"It means 'Don't come nearer.'" informed him Sirius, again in his human form. "And IT means 'Someone has already fallen in and probably is still inside.'"

Here, Sirius shoved something into James' hand. James stared at it. It was a dark-wooded, maybe twelve inches long wand. Somehow, it looked familiar. "Do you know who might it be?"

Sirius shook his head. "The rain washed out all the scents. But I can feel something big and nasty sitting down here. I don't want to worry you, but it smells like an acromantula."

James suddenly paled as the realization hit him. Carefully, probing the ground under his feet as he approached, he drew nearer to the mysterious hole. Staring downwards, he roared: "Is anybody here?

There was no answer.

&&

"You want to go down? Jamie, are you completely out of your head? Think about your wife! Think about Harry! You don't want him to become an orphan because his daddy was eaten by a giant acromantula, do you?"

"For once, shut up Siri, and listen-"

" No! I won't listen! I won't stand by when my friend again gives to that insane urge to save people at every opportunity! You risked your life once to save Snivelly's ass and what have became of it? He didn't even found it in himself to say 'thank you'! What more, this git demanded loudly to have you expelled! You, his bloody savior!"

"Shut. Up. Sirius. First of all, this gave me one thing that, as you are so determined to prove, matters nothing to you. A clear consciousness. Secondly, I'm going to do it because it is the right thing to do. That simple. And, finally, try to stop me."

With this parting words, James grabbed his broom in left hand and, after casting a Cushioning Charm, he jumped down, disappearing in the hole. Sirius cursed loudly and sat down on a grass, prepared for a long wait.

Under the ground, James landed softly and immediately rose to the standing position, lighting what appeared to be a cave with one powerful blast of light from his wand. He heard an angry clicking sound and reflexively jumped to the right. The acromantula appeared at the exact spot he was standing half a second ago, all eight of her eyes staring at the intruder. It was more than huge, it was enormous. But James wasted no time to contemplate it's unusual size. The moment he saw the monster, he struck out with the most powerful paralyzing spell he knew. The monster froze in place and Potter flicked his wand, closing it in the airless bubble. He left it to slowly suffocate, while scanning the cave for any body or, Merlin forbid, bones that might be lying there.

"Everything all right?" called Sirius.

"Yup!" confirmed James. "The spider is dead, now I'm searching for a victim. Wait a mo."

There were some bones scattered around, but, to his relief, they belonged to some unlucky animals. When James was rapidly coming to a conclusion that the wizard was long before rescued or found out how to apparate wandlessly, he noticed a crack in the wall. He examined it. It was nearly too narrow for someone to squeeze through, but, if this someone was desperate enough…

He widened it magically so that he was able to crawl on all fours, without hitting his head. After a couple of meters he began to regret his decision. The sharp fragments bit into his knees and hands and he had a feeling that the next moment he would be buried alive. But then he began to notice little splashes of dried blood and fragments of black material, and he hurried along. The corridor, hopefully, was getting higher, so he was able to walk normally, bending his back only lightly.

And then, in the eerie light from the wand, he saw the victim.

Well, better to say is that the first thing he smelled the victim, straightly before seeing him and this smell send him to his knees, dry-retching. He profoundly thanked the Merlin, that his stomach was empty. When he, eventually, calmed his protesting insides, he shakily rose to deal with thoroughly terrifying reality.

The victim was a bundle of black, torn robes and black, dirty hair; lying on his side and not moving. The nose, which was so characteristic, that one need to never see Severus Snape to not recognize it immediately, and a fragment of his face were the only visible parts of his skin. They have a sickening greenish tinge to them. Snape's face was frozen in a tortured grimace, his eyes tightly closed. For one frightening moment James thought he was seeing a corpse.

But then, Snape's lips trembled and Potter breathed out the air he didn't know he was holding. Bloody bastard, he thought. Why always him? And he even can't kick Snape's ass, because of the situation they were in. Breathing through his mouth to keep out the smell he made the last few steps and kneeled beside the motionless body.

"Snape? Are you here with me?" he asked, while lightly shaking man's shoulder. Severus gave out a little whimper. A blue-green tongue moved to lick the perched lips. His eyes opened very, very slowly to gave James a half-lidded stare. For no more than a quarter of a second a mad glint lighted Snape's eyes, only to dim into a look of black despair as quick as he recognized his rescuer.

"Potter" he said and it sounded so miserably, that James suddenly, without any reason, felt quite bad.

"Yeah, that's me. It's two-zero, man." James grinned, but stopped when he realized that Snape didn't get it.

"Potter… Do I look as terrible as I feel?" rasped Snape.

James wanted to say that yes, even worse, but kept it to himself because he noticed the slight tremor in the wizard's voice. Severus, he realized, was bordering on the hysterics. And what was he doing here, having a civil conversation, while the man obviously needed help and needed it quick? He wanted to smack himself in the head. Instead, in his best calm voice he used while talking to his baby he said "It's all right, Severus. Now, tell me, what happened to you."

"It's not al right" whispered the wizard, squeezing his eyes. "The acromantula stung me in abdomen and I can barely feel my body. I cannot move. My vision is blurred and my head is pounding like hell. I'm dying. Do you know, Potter, what a death is? Because, now, I do! And… And, I don't-" There his voice broke. James was listening, horrified.

"How… How long?"

"N-no idea. It… It was Tuesday."

Today was Saturday. Today was bloody Saturday. James stared at the man incredulously. This guy was still alive. Normally, it took no more than twenty four hours for acromantula's venom to kill a healthy man. Yet, Snape was still alive.

"Potter" Snape's voice cut through his shocked musings. "P-please, don't kill me." His eyes were wide, frightened. James looked into this eyes, gobsmacked. What the bastard thought, that he is going to simply finish him off and be done with him? Something has occurred to James.

"Did anyone know that you are in trouble? Did they search for you?"

"Why would they care?" Snape's voice was so bitter that it shook James to the core. He looked at the man before him. Really looked. This was Severus Snape, the boy who was always ridiculed, always laughed at. Many enemies, some allies, no friends. So, honestly, why?

"_Who_ would care?" asked Snape.

James blinked. Merlin's pants, but some things simply _had_ to be done.

He moved his face closer to Snape's and looked into his black orbs. For once, they were open and reflected all the pain, hopelessness and terrible fright that Snape was experiencing. But there was something else, a grim determination to survive, no matter the price. James, against himself, was impressed.

"_I_ do."

Snape was shocked. He was inquiring him, wordlessly, about their years in Hogwart's. About every insult, every cruel prank.

But explanations could wait. There was some work to do.

&&

Moving Snape's body into a stretcher was more difficult that James thought it would be. As soon as he put Severus down, his breathing hitched. He was in visible pain and there was no safe pain potion James could deliver to him without fearing the side-effects. He transfigured his coat into a thick blanket and covered wizard's body. It was as much for keeping him warm as for keeping the ugly wound out of sight. He wasn't sure how much of Snape's organs was still functional, but, guessing by the sight of his skin, not that much. It was a true miracle that he was still alive, but whether he will stay that way, only time would say.

It was sad, in a way. James never liked Snape, but no one should die like that, like a rotting piece of meat, waiting to be digested by worms. It was also heroic, to last through this hell and still want to live. James wasn't sure what his feelings about Snape on that moment were, but he knew one thing. For such a thing, for such a show of true Gryffindor bravery, he would support Severus. It was a matter of respect, James' respect earned by Snape the moment he showed Potter the force of will so formidable, that it kept him alive against all the odds.

"James Potter! If you don't say something this moment, I'm going to send a herd of pygmy-puffs to retrieve you!" roared Sirius and James smiled fondly. Some things never change.

"I've found someone!" he answered.

"Someone to kick his ass?"

"Nope, if you don't want to kick him to the other side of the veil! He is alive, but barely! Prepare for a express flight to St Mungos!"

"Wonderfull! And who, pray tell, is the lucky guy?"

Instead answering, James jumped on his broom and kicked off the ground, flying upwards. The stretcher floated behind him. The sight of Sirius' face, when he realized who the victim was, was priceless.

"Snape?" he shrieked, pointing finger at the newcomer. "He is… He is _green_!"

_To Be Continued…_

A/N: Hope you liked the chapter. Let me know what you think! Next time: The dramatic fight for Snape's life begins!


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Not my world. Not my folk. Still, pity.

**People who cared**

3.

"Shh, Sirius" James shushed him, gently lowering the stretcher to the ground. If anything, Snape looked even worse in the daylight. The color of his skin, alongside with the whites of his eyes now bearing the color of a ripe lemon and his skeleton-like face were enough to make any healer desperate. Luckily, he was conscious, if you count the repeated "Oh, hell" and "Salazar, save me" that Snape was muttering since the moment he realized who his second rescuer was.

"Hey, snakey boy, it's not _that_ bad", Potter whispered with a crooked smile. Unluckily, his old friend overheard him and, suddenly, James felt himself flying to the point where Sirius was standing, and being dropped carelessly to the ground before Black's feet. Then, he was brutally pulled on his feet by his collar and met Sirius' accusing glare.

"You have to be delusional, if you think that everything is good and shiny, James Potter! What, blast you, happened to your brains? I can't believe, I simply can't believe that you have done it again! For fuck's sake, it's bloody Snape! And he is green _and_ stinks! And I won't be surprised to learn that he is one of _them_! What if he is? You don't want You-Know-Who&company breathing down your neck, do you? What you should have done, James Potter, was to leave the git to..."

"Shut up, you selfish bastard!", James hissed, giving his ranting friend a Glare. Why does nobody see that he is tired, worried and really angry? That he has a dying man in his care? "Maybe I'm a bloody hero on a bloody white horse, I don't give a damn. Maybe Snape is a devil incarnate, I don't care! What I care about is to get to bloody St Mungo's, dragon-fast! Do you share my sentiment?"

Sirius only stood there, mouth agape.

"Please Siri, just that once, make it easier to us all and try to understand", whispered James. "Just look at him. This guy went through a living hell. He was bitten by an acromantula four days ago and since this time is slowly dying. He doesn't need us questioning his motives, he needs our help."

Sirius blinked slowly, processing the information. "Four days?" he asked, amazed. "Bloody impossible." He looked at Severus like he was seeing him for the first time. For a couple of seconds nobody made any move.

Then, Sirius seemed to make up his mind. He approached cautiously the still figure stretched ten centimeters above the grass. He circled it slowly and, finally, knelt at the side of victim head, his expression blank. Curious, James glimpsed over Sirius' back.

Severus looked not quite in this reality by then, but the emotions expressed in his teary, heavy-lidded eyes were an irrefutable proof that he have heard every Black's word. They were of hatred mingled with terrible shame. It made James feel ten times worse. It was like he broke some unspoken promise, even if there was no reason he should feel like he wasn't in this thin, helpless Slytherin's debt. It was, in fact, quite the contrary. Two to one, he said to Snape. And the first time James saved him, he didn't stop to bait him mercilessly, when Snivelly, shaking and nearly weeping from stress of meeting with a real werewolf, didn't have the energy to bite back.

Something has changed. Maybe because of the newfound respect for Snape. But even if, Prongs felt it was only a tip of an iceberg. It was something in him, something so elemental that he never really realized. Till this day.

Oddly enough, Sirius gave no sign that he was affected by Snape's stare. Padfoot, in fact, has also changed, James thought. If only a little bit. Whenever did it happen?

"Do your eyes hurt?" asked Black in business-like voice. The answer was an even more intense stare and a new flood of tears. "I can see they do," said Sirius with a sneer. He waved his wand, making a thick, moist shadow fell over Snape's eyes. "You are a tough bastard, Slytherin. Keep with us a little more, when we take you to the hospital, OK?" He put his hand on Severus' carotid like it was the most natural thing to do. James rose his eyebrow in speculation. Was it only the last year that Sirius began developing the more sensible side of his nature? "Unless you want the ol' softhearted Jamie weep over your tomb and gave one of his sons your name..."

"Hey!" protested James.

"Yeah, I don't know what get into him as well. Do you, Snape? Maybe it's because you look so dashing in green... Yes, James! We are leaving now. Stop glaring at me like that, you are giving me willies."

James rolled his eyes. It took Sirius to joke at moment like this. Maybe he didn't change, after all.

Luckily, after that one Sirius kept silent. Together, they mounted their brooms and took off, slowly gaining height, Snape's body floating between them.

&&

Some days later the nightmarish details of this mad race came back to him in the shape of dreams. The blinding, cold rain, mercilessly attacking his face and eyes. The slowly descending darkness and a constant terrible worry that the poor idiot would be dead by the time they reach their destination. Sirius, unsmiling, his wide, black eyes fixed on some unseen point far on the horizon. A black cloud of crows flying south, their croaks the only sounds reaching their ears.

For one, frightening moment James had a feeling that he is doomed. That everyone he loved is doomed. It was so sudden and overwhelming he wanted to scream. Luckily, before the silence became unbearable, he saw the lights of London.

"Look, Sirius! We are nearly there!" he called, the relief flooding him. It was so intense, that even his toes started to tingle. Sirius laughed happily. Yes, Sirius had to feel that too. Now, he was blowing on the cold fingers of his left palm, then right. They slowed down and James realized that his ass is frozen to the broom. He expressed this in a string of curses.

"Yeah, lucky bastard, this one, isn't he?" asked Sirius, pointing at Snape, who was surrounded with a softly glimmering bubble of hot air. "He made himself all warm and cosy, the slippery reptile, while we, his rescuers, are labouring to save his life!"

"You know, what? Still, I prefer to be the rescuer!"

"Exactly my thoughts. Especially now, as we are reaching the st Mungo's roof. Keep close, I know where the emergency entrance is!"

Saying this, Sirius zoomed down in the direction of a flat gray roof and disappeared straightly through it. James, not giving himself time for, most probably pessimistic, thoughts, followed.

They landed in a small square room with white walls, white ceiling, green floor and no windows. It was completely bare apart from a huge red button, standing out against the wall so blatantly that no one would be able to overlook it. It was signed: "Push, if you need help." Sirius did just it.

"This is St Mungo's Emergency Ward. May I help you with something?"

"Yeah. You see, We've got here a guy who was bitten by an acromantula.", Sirius answered.

"How long ago?"

"Er. Actually, four days."

"WHAT?"

"Well, that's what _you_ are supposed to know, isn't it?"

"We... We... Is he really still alive?"

This made Black really angry. "If you want to know, why not to move your fat asses and ask him about it? Because, for me, he is perfectly alive! But probably not for long with this place working as it is!"

"Of course, sorry. We will be there immediately."

"You better be."

While Sirius was engrossed in his discussion, James moved to check on Severus. During the whole journey the Slytherin was lying calmly and not voicing any protests when they took the sharp turn to avoid a flock of birds. But now, in the better light, he noticed the signs of even greater distress appearing on Snape's weary face. There was a bead of sweat on his forehead and he was breathing quickly.

"Snape?" asked James, alarmed.

"Make it stop. M-make..."

"Quick! Turn him on his side!"

Visibly from nowhere, three Healers appeared in the room. They rushed to Severus, grabbed him and turned him so that he was facing the floor. One of them ordered James to kneel and hold Snape's head.

The victim's skin was cold and clammy under Potter's fingers. The Slytherin retched, then vomited a considerable amount of something black-reddish, tingled with green. He gave out a tortured moan and retched a couple more times. After that he went silent.

James cautiously turned him on his back, the black head resting across his knees. The wide opened, frightened eyes were staring up his face.

"Feel better?" asked Prongs.

"I want it to stop" whispered Snape. His facial muscles were so exhausted that his face, paradoxically, showed no emotion. But everything left unsaid was there, in these black orbs. James found out he cannot look at them. Instead, he turned his attention to the Healers, who, after checking the victim's condition, were talking to each other in hushed voices and gesticulating furiously. Sirius was listening to them attentively, his brow creased. One of the Healers nodded and waved his wand. At the middle of the floor the door appeared and he rushed through it. James was surprised that he didn't notice it before.

The remaining Healers turned to James and Severus. The one that looked like he was in charge, the tall man with sandy hair and a warm smile, introduced himself as Nicholas Fontaine, the Chief Healer of Emergency Ward. "And now we would like to move our patient to our ward. We think that it's too risky to take any drastic steps before his condition is stable. What we want to do is a full blood exchange, to remove the remaining poison from his system. I hope that the patient have no religious or otherwise objections to this procedure?"

"None that I'm aware of", said Sirius snidely. "Except that he would probably demand the reptile's blood."

"Very funny, Siri", James muttered. "Snape?"

Severus blinked slowly. "Wha'? N-no. Why?"

"Because Jamie wants to donate his own blood to you" said Sirius, while titling his head to stare meaningfully at the ceiling. Everyone ignored him.

"OK, gents. Let's get to work, then." Fontaine came to them and, using his wand, gently replaced Severus' body on a stretcher. "That's good boy. You see, you will be a healthy man in no time." The second Healer was standing in the entrance, keeping the door opened, when the four of them went through it, straight into the room that was already full equipped and waiting for the new patient.

Snape was immediately put into bed and surrounded by no less than five Healers, all of them working quickly and silently. James barely had the time to think that most probably the whole Ward was engaged in the healing of his old nemesis, when Healer Fontaine beckoned him and Sirius aside.

"Are you his friends or his relatives?" he asked without preamble. James stared at Sirius, who, as a response, stared back.

"Well-" James scratched his chin. "We are colleagues, you may say. I know him from Hogwart's. But, since finishing the school, this is the first time I saw him."

"Do you know where his relatives live? We need to contact them."

They both shook their heads. The only information James had about Snape's family was that around his third year his mother has died. Once, long time ago, Sirius mentioned that she had came from once a well known pureblood family that was close to Lord Grindelwald. They have lost most of their family fortune after Grindelwald's fall.

"Why not to ask him personally?" inquired James.

"Honestly, Jamie", Sirius rolled his eyes. "Don't be dumb. They can't do it because it would sound like 'Where are the people who would pay for your funeral?' It's like that between us, _normal_ purebloods. Snape had to ask himself."

"Is it _that_ bad?", asked James, feeling stupid again. Of course it was bad. In other case, Snape wouldn't have a herd of Healers tiptoeing around him and looking at him like he was an animal in the zoo.

"Well, as you are not his relatives..."

"Oh, stop it, man. It's not as we have no eyes!" Sirius again was angry. James frowned, puzzled at his friend odd behaviour. "Tell us what you know, then I will go to search this bloody family of his. I know someone who is aware of where they live." There Black frowned deeply and James momentarily understood _whom_ he meant. His mother. His hateful mother who loathed her son as much as he loathed her. The woman whom he avoided like a plague.

"Siri, there is no need..." started James.

"Fuck you, James!" snarled Sirius." Don't you dare to look so pitiful! First, you say that I have no conscience. And when I'm trying to make the tiniest of things for the bastard I nearly send to death, you are trying to stop me? So be silent!"

Oh my. James never realized that Sirius may feel guilty, too. That maybe he was hurt by his friend's words, condemning him as a heartless man. Suddenly, he understood Black's actions. It was as much to prove to himself that he can act compassionate as to make James notice the more positive aspects of Padfoot's nature.

"Er... Gents?" The Healer looked seriously troubled, being the unwilling onlooker of their heated exchange. "Have you finished? Well then, the situation is indeed, serious. Grave, even. We never before had a patient as him, the victims of acromantula's venom die much more faster. And after more than eight hour since the bite, it's nearly impossible to save the patient's life. But four days... It's unusual. We performed some screening charms on him but we found nothing except that the tissues are strangely immune to the venom. Because of this, we decided to take the risk and operate on him as fast as his blood replacing finishes. It's going to be difficult, and, let's not delude ourselves, the mortality rate in that kinds of operations goes up to forty percent. We have to cut out most of his insides, and pray that, with the help of potions, he will grow the new ones."

"How much time do I have?" asked Sirius.

"Two hours till the operation begins."

"I'm going, then. Take care, Jamie. And buy yourself a hot coffee. And eat something. You look like you were chewed by a dragon and then spit up."

"Thanks, Siri. And sorry for that previous one. _All_ the previous ones. You really are an OK guy." James smiled and two friends embraced. What would I do without him, thought James. Sirius was like a flame, always raging around and always changing, but also always here to warm you up and make you feel a little less miserable. That was his friend.

"It doesn't matter, James. You are better than me. In fact, you are too good for my tastes. Where is the bullying cock gone? I liked him very much."

"No idea."

"I tell you something." whispered Sirius, the mischief dancing in the black eyes. "_I_ know. It is something my father calls 'growing up'. Have you got any idea how does this monster look? Because, Merlin save me, I don't want to meet with him. Ever."

&&

After Sirius left, James suddenly felt very alone. Of course, he could call for one of his friends. But Peter would not understand and Remus... Well, the thing with Remus was, that they still weren't sure for which side he was working. Remus, as much as they liked him, was a werewolf and Voldemort wanted werewolves in his ranks. What more, lately he have taken to disappearing for a couple of days and then reappearing again, his smile soft and innocent but his mouth firmly shut. It made James and Sirius cut the contact with Remus to the minimum.

Also, he couldn't ask Lily to come. She had little Harry in her care and he had no energy to explain her the situation he found himself in. The thought of simply leaving Snape alone and going home hasn't even occurred to him. He was so used to people staying with him when he was ill that it was only natural for him to do the same.

Severus was sleeping. "Keep silent around him. He needs to be as rested before the operation as possible", explained Healer Fontaine. "He had to be awake during it. It's essential for potions to work."

"What?" hissed James, outraged. "You mean he will be watching you pulling his bowels out? You had to be crazy! After everything he went through..."

"It's the only method, Mr Potter", explained the Healer, his voice patient. "If it's any consolation, he won't be _watching_ it. He would also be under a local anesthetic, so while he will still feel it, there would be no pain. Stop staring at me like this, Mr Potter. We are not monsters, we are here to save his life."

James wasn't sure he would like to be saved like that. Wasn't it better to die, after all? It would save him all this suffering, all this pain and all this indignity. He shuddered to think about himself in such a state. Would he fight for his life? Or would he ask them to finish him off? He didn't wish to know the answer to that question.

He sat on a chair beside the bed and watched Snape's face. It was, for once, peaceful, his features smoothed by sleep, his lips slack and those eyes, the eyes James was sure would be haunting him to the end of his life, were blessedly closed. Snape was washed magically from tip to toe, his torn robes discarded, and now he wore a white hospital gown. To his left hand, sticking from under the covers, a small pipe was attached. Through it, a red liquid was pumped into his veins. There was a similar pipe attached to his right hand, transferring an ugly, greenish substance to the huge container under his bed. James thought, amazed, that Snape was still alive with that mud flowing in his system. It was a miracle in itself.

He was already looking better. His skin color changed from green to gray and his breathing pattern became evener, less labored. James smiled to himself, the bastard was really good in sticking to his life. He looked at the black hair scattered on the pillow, and, suddenly, noticed something strange. He took one of the strands between his first and second finger-

A little jolt of electricity jumped onto his skin.

He dropped the hair, frowning. He have heard about such phenomenon, well, to tell the truth he even experienced it. In some stressful situations, the wizard's body mobilized all it's magic to face the potential danger. It was, between everything else, the part of a normal process of becoming an Animagus. He remembered going through it as the worst moment of the whole thing. He simultaneously felt powerful and wanted to puke when everything in him turned and squeezed painfully as the magic took over the physiological processes and ordered every cell to reposition itself. It seemed that this kind of magic saved Severus, too. It was rare but not unheard of.

He yawned. Merlin, but he was tired.

"Bring you something?" The young Healer, who was sitting in the corner, scribbling on a parchment, smiled at him warmly. "There is a shop on the fifth floor."

"Yeah, sure." James passed her a Galleon. "A strong coffee and some sandwiches. Thanks a lot."

"No problem. I see that you don't want to leave your friend."

A friend? James blinked, not sure whom she is talking about. Snape was no friend of his. A responsibility, yes. But not a friend.

&&

Two hours later, with Sirius still absent, James was becoming impatient. What took him so much time? If Snape's relatives were all dead, he would be back by now. The Saturday was nearly over and he wished to spend Sunday in his own bed. His unhappy musings were cut short by the young Healer's voice, asking him to wake the patient up.

James didn't want to do it. He had no wish to see that haunted expression again. But he had no choice, he never had any choice since he went into that hole. So he took Severus' hand and squeezed it gently. "Wake up, man. You have to wake up."

Snape moved his head right and left, as saying 'no'.

"C'mon, man. Don't let them wait for you."

He blinked sleepily. "Wha's on? Everything's blurred."

"They have changed your blood. Now you look like human should. You know, pink and everything."

"That's all? Good. I want to sleep." He closed his eyes.

"I'm afraid you have to stay awake. They are going to operate on you."

This got Snape's attention. His eyes flew open and his fists clenched. All the healthy color disappeared from his face which became as white as parchment. Those terrible, black orbs stared at James, pleading. "I don't want them to hurt me anymore. I think I'm going to scream if they would."

"Really. They only want to help you, Snape. You will be as good as new after it."

"You don't understand it, do you, Potter?" There was a hint of sneer in Snape's hysterical voice. "You have no capacity to understand the meaning of trauma, you pampered Gryffindor. You never looked straight into monster's eyes, moments before you were lying, unable to move, while their owner was making a hole in your stomach. You never... never was left to rot in this pit of hell-" He stopped to take a few gulps of air. His face was defensive now and James felt a sudden surge of compassion flew through him.

Oh, Merlin. And they wanted this poor guy to be awake through the whole ordeal.

"I think... I think I will ask Healer Fontaine to prepare a mild Draught of Peace." said the young Healer, running out.

Snape stopped at this. "They are going to give me a full anesthetic, don't they?"

"Erm-"

"W-well, then. They would b-better restrain me. Unless they want me to jump out the window." He was trembling, now. His eyes were moving quickly like he was searching for some way to escape. He was visibly going into a shock.

James cursed his straightforwardness. How it is, that he never learned to be subtle? "Snape", he said in a panicked voice. No reaction. He again took Severus' hand and slowly unclenched it's fingers. Then he caught the pale, thin palm between both of his and squeezed. Hard. "Severus Snape. I. Am. Here. With. You. I'm not going to let them hurt you."

Snape stared at him like have just noticed his presence. "Really?"

"Sure thing, man." James grinned, relieved. "We two are a couple of tough bastards. We are going to get through it and, afterwards, have a nice huge bowl of chocolate ice cream. You like chocolate ice cream, don't you?"

"You should know it. You are, after all, the person who changed mine into a dragon dung."

"Man, you are not supposed to remember it! It was our _first_ year!"

&&

_To Be Continued..._

AN: Well, here we are. The third chapter is out. For those who are impatient: the 11 year old Harry won't appear soon. First, we have to go through all the things that happened in the Marauder's era till this fateful night of Voldemort's death. This is going to take a couple of chapters, I'm afraid. But, as a replacement, I offer you a one year old Harry. He is a charming little beast, so you won't be disappointed.

PS. Thanks for your reviews. They are keeping me alive! (hint, hint)


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: The same as in zillion other Harry Potter themed fanfictions.

**People Who Cared**

4.

The thought that he have got more than he bargained for began to niggle at James when he saw the place they had been heading to. Just before a massive double-winged door, the group of Healers parted, letting the hospital bed by. They were calm and even a little cheerful, like they were going to take part in a family picnic, not to perform a complicated surgery.

They are probably wondering if Snape will make an interesting case, thought James bitterly. All of them were the same, the professionals. The routine was gradually chopping off the remnants of their occupational passions and slowly becoming them. The walking routines on two legs, with an artificial smile and tired eyes. James was terrified to found out that some of his peers have already had the same symptoms. He vowed to himself to never be like them. Never. The life was too precious for such things.

It seemed that one black-haired Slytherin was also bothered by something. The mere fact that he was given a double dose of the Draught of Peace obviously didn't stop him from developing uneasy ideas. He was, after all, a bastard cut out for thinking too much. So now he was doing just that, pondering over something, brow deeply creased with confusion. One of his hands was twitching spasmodically and the uneven, broken nails were repeatedly scratching the covers. It made James nervous beyond the reason, so much that he had to forcefully stop himself from snapping at Snape.

The next second, however, when he followed the Healers through the door, every thought fled his panicked mind, leaving him gaping at the view that unfolded before him. Bah, he have already seen enough of St Mungo's to suffice for his whole life but _that_ was the last straw! A shadow-less, unnatural light was giving everything outlines so sharp that it hurt to look. The operating table was surrounded by endless rows of surgical instruments, looking eerily dangerous. Four cupboards were full of different medical potions, most of them labeled with blood-freezing descriptions like "Bone Dissolving Solution" or "Instant Paralysis Elixir". Along the wall, a huge transparent container filled with clear bluish liquid was lurking. The letters painted on it announced: "The disposed tissues". James was feeling nauseous just thinking what would be inside of it at the end of the whole thing.

And this ever present smell of death. A shiver run through his spine.

He didn't wish to be there. He wanted only to show enough civility to wait with Snape for his relatives to come. But, somehow, they didn't. Then, the Uncle Fate show him it's arse and he had been compelled to promise the Slytherin that he will be there for him. Well, it wasn't a promise _per se._ But even if, it would take Sirius' cheekiness to admit it aloud and leave. James vaguely remembered himself being like him and these selfish and overall comfortable ways of thinking he favored so. But now, they were somehow inaccessible to him. No matter how much he squirmed and wished to be somewhere else, he could not escape. It was some unknown but powerful force whispering to him unpleasant things like "What if your positions were reversed? Would you like to be left alone?" or "It's only proper, James." He had to listen to it.

Siri was right. He have grown up. Ugh.

There was also one little thing. A mystery he wished to unveil. It was why Severus Snape, this tough-headed bastard, so readily agreed for James' assistance. He didn't object, anyway. Normally, he would order Potter to get lost, if only to save a little of his precious dignity. Was he so desperate for a human contact? But, there was a whole herd of Healers around him, he should be satisfied. Was he so terrified? Or, was he simply out of his sane mind and will skin James alive as soon as he will get better? The thought that he could change too was too much for James. Some people, Sirius and Snape between them, simply _do not_ change.

"Potter, what are you doing for living?"

Speaking of the devil. Why the blasted Slytherin can't stick to the safe subjects? James acted like he never heard the nosy question. Instead, with a theatrical nonchalance he circled the group of Healers, intentionally tripped over some odd pipe sticking out from the floor, hold onto Healer Fontaine's robes, apologized with a toothy grin and with an articulate 'Ah!' found out that there, indeed, is a stool hidden under a surgical table. He pulled it out, making a horrible screeching sound. He apologized again. He sat down, sighing. With a deep satisfaction he saw that everyone in the room is observing him like a cauldron doomed to explode.

Well, even if he did grew up, there was no need to behave like that all the time. Was there?

"Nice weather outside, isn't it?", he said conversationally.

Not saying a word in response, the Healers get back to work. But, to James' immense relief, the atmosphere in this terrible place seemed to light up, if only a little bit. He regretted that there was no Sirius and his famous mealtime jokes. He would have shown them a class.

James tried to remember the one that made half of the firsties vomit their chocolate pudding. It was quite brilliant, this one. Pity that it kept avoiding the tentacles of his mind.

He was so lost in thoughts, that he never noticed Snape watching him, his black eyes glinting strangely.

&&

"Potter, I asked you a question, didn't I?", said Severus. His speech was slurred and he was stumbling upon some words but he tried to pull a brave face. He paid no heed to the Healers moving around them and disappearing behind a wide screen that separated his head and upper chest from the rest of his body. He was lying on the table now, while the Healers were whispering between themselves and making preparations. Meanwhile, Snape looked determined to behave like nothing interesting was happening. James, who found that he understood him all too well, was eagerly playing along.

Potter rolled his eyes. Never expect Snape to forget anything.

"Just loafing around", James answered, shrugging. "You know, taking care of my family, thinking what I would like to do when the war ends-"

"Typical."

"Oh, don't be such an ass about it! I've never heard of a Great Career of One Severus Snape, either. It's a war, people have other, more important problems. Like if they are going to be slaughtered today or maybe the next weekend-"

"I'm earning my money, Potter."

"Doing what?"

"NYB"

"Meaning?"

"Not Your Business."

James blinked. Was that only a meteor falling down and wiping all the life from the surface of the Earth or Snape have just made a joke?

"You have just joked, didn't you? Man, you have just joked! You've got a sense of humor! Wait till I write it down in the 'Hogwart's History'!"

"Please, don't. I would be embarrassed."

Snape closed his eyes, softly breathing out. He looked weary and a little sad, the lines of his gaunt face harsh in the unpleasant light. A hot, heavy silence have fallen upon them, filled with an overwhelming presence of the light, a smell of antiseptics and whispers. It was this type of silence that often created the worst of prophecies. It made you listen to it, it doesn't matter you wished it or not. So James listened.

"_... here it goes. Just under the twelfth vertebra. One measure should be enough. We are not operating on a Green Welsh, after all."_

"_Sure, sir. The anesthetic is ready."_

"_Go on. We don't have a whole day."_

Snape's eyes opened.

"P-potter, say something!"

"But what?"

"Whatever, whatever, Potter! About your bloody happy life! Potter, for Merlin's sake..."

"OK, OK! You know that I am married to Lily?"

"N-not so dif-difficult to guess."

"So, two years ago was our wedding. You remember that September? Voldemort stopped killing people for the whole two months so everyone thought that he is gone for good or surrendered himself or maybe was morphing into Father Christmas, because, honestly, why not. Well, the weather was beautiful so Dad wished us to marry in the back garden of the Potter Mansion-"

"Oh no... They are... They are... My b-"

"Snape. Listen." James felt like he was on the verge of yelling or maybe even throwing curses around. His nerves have already been frayed. One more thing and they will go to hell. Snape whimpered, relieving his nightmare over and over. James put a hand under his chin and turned his head so that their eyes meet. There was a flash of recognition in the black orbs.

Yeah, man, wake up from it because I honestly can't watch you suffering any more. It's not my place, but a place for someone who cares for you. Pity, that nobody does. Blast it, what a mess.

"S-sorry."

"No problem. I know I'm a bad storyteller. So, where was I heading to? Well, Lily didn't agree to the project. She said that even without this she had enough problems with persuading her sister to come... You know Petunia? Oh, sorry. F'course you don't. Your luck in that area. She is the worst- Worst- Oh, hell, there is no word bad enough to describe her."

"A bitch that wouldn't fit in the dragon's ass?"

"Hey, that one is good! Well, she is relating to me as "that double-eyed thief". Merlin knows why, as I have never stolen anything. Must be a Muggle thing. She herself looks like a famished thestral who was kicked from the herd for a lack of grace. She is always ogling at me when I'm visiting Evanses, staring at my plate when I'm eating like she is counting the potatoes to make me pay for them in the near future. Honestly, I don't know what is wrong with her. So, you can imagine how delighted I was to hear that there is even a slim possibility for her not to come. I went-"

Then, they have heard a noise like someone was wringing a wet rag out. It froze Jame's guts.

"D-dont freak out. I think it's only my b-bowels. Do continue."

Maybe this was only Snape's insides, maybe not. James never knew. Suddenly, there was a panicked rush and a Healer appeared on their side of a barricade. He had a fat bottle of blood red elixir with himself and poured all of it into Severus' throat. James noticed, with growing alarm, that all the remaining colour is rapidly disappearing from the Slytherin's face. Snape's eyelids fluttered sleepily and James understood.

The poor guy wasn't even aware that the life was living his body. In between the professional babble and the whispered incantations Potter caught one word that explained him the whole situation: a shock.

The man who went through all of that was pushed too far.

Some odd instinct of James kicked in, urging him to act. Snape was dying and no one thought to tell him about this. To let him fight, once again, for his life. They were too dependent on the outside magic but it wasn't what saved Severus previously, was it?

He jumped from the stool, grabbing Snape by his shoulders and shaking him till it hurt. He slapped him with a resounding smack.

"Snape! Wake up! Now!"

There was no fireworks. There was no tendrils of bluish light pouring out of Severus, nor sudden waves of energy. But something definitely happened. Snape's muscles tightened and his teeth clenched.

"Nnn-"

One of the Healers gasped.

"Snape? _Snape!_"

"G'off me" growled Severus.

"_What are you gaping at? Continue! This guy is made of the elvish steel, nothing's going to happen to him!"_

Yes, nothing was going to happen to the irritating Slytherin. His head was lying inertly on a pillow, his skin and lips covered with perspiration, the artery on his neck pulsing wildly. But he was definitely alive and highly likely to remain so.

An unexpected wave of relief flood James, turning his legs into jelly. He slumped down on a stool, his head bent, his face hidden in palms. Hell, but this newfound responsibility was killing him. He didn't want any of it, did he? It was so easy, when Snape was only a memory, a memory which he, Sirius and Peter could laugh at. It would be also preferable if they have met as two opponents. Then, he could see the cold, sneering face and hate it again.

But no. Not such luck. He had to meet him in person and feel new, uncomfortable feelings rising in his chest.

"It hurt. It really b-bloody hurt. What was it?"

"Your lack of willingness to die, Snape", James said wearily.

"P-pretty powerful, t-that one."

"Your internal magic."

"N-no. I-it can't be. I-it needs-" Severus paused to catch a breath. It was obvious that talking was beginning to taking it's toll on him. "I-it n-needs clear b-blood to work. N-no p-poisoning."

"Well, this looked to me as your internal magic manifesting itself. It sometimes does, when you are distressed. But, probably, you know better. Boy, you look positively wiped out. I think we should stop this pointless discussion."

"It's not p- _Ouch_. T-they are doing it again..."

"I understand that you want me to resume my terrible story? Where was I?"

&&

Healer Fontaine put down his wand with a feeling of a job well done. The patient, against all the odds, survived and already was on his way to recovery. This was a little miracle and Fontaine knew that, but it didn't dampen his professional pride. His team, looking both exhausted and satisfied, was making the last preparations to move the patient to the ward.

"Is 't over?", asked Snape. With his eyelids heavy from lack of sleep and a world-weary expression on his pale face he looked quite ready to faint. "I warn th't one more elishir an' I'm going-"

"Yeah, that's all. You are whole, at last", James replied, massaging his stiff neck. "Thanks Merlin. Maybe now we can behave like a proper Slytherin and Gryffindor should."

"You're welcome. Nnn, pweh. Take it 'way. Hate elishirs."

The Healer explained patiently that he had to take them if he wished to eat anything else in the future. He said, that the newly restored organs haven't been fully prepared yet to fulfill their normal functions so they had to be helped along the way. Then, he administered the potions to the slightly scowling patient.

The black head have fallen back on the pillow. Snape was asleep.

"Oh, my", James muttered. He stretched, feeling every aching joint and muscle. It was over. Luckily, it was over. Now he could eat something and fall into that blissful nothingness. And not surface till tomorrow evening. After that, he will think over the Snape's problem. But till-

&&

Outside, on the corridor, Sirius was pacing. There was no visible Snape's relative with him so James' face fell. To top it all, Padfood looked absolutely furious. His shoulders were hunched and his stomps hard. His fingers were twitching like they wanted to strangle the nearest living thing. When he saw Prongs, he strode purposefully in his direction.

"Snape's all right?", he barked out. James reflexively stepped back

"Yeah."

"That's good." A feral smile appeared on Sirius' face. There was a mad glint in his eyes, a glint which for some reason upset James. " 'Cause I haven't murdered the bastard. I reckon he wishes to do it himself."

&&

_To Be Continued..._

A/N: Thank you for your reviews! They are making my day. To answer some of your questions: Unfortunately, Severus have already passed the prophecy to Voldemort. Now, our heroes would have to deal with the consequences.

And no, it won't be a slash. I don't especially like slashes. I'm leaving it for people who love writing such kind of fanfiction.

Well, dear readers, that's all for today. In the next chapter we will be finally getting some explanations from Severus. Are his troubles over or is it only a beginning? You will see!


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I'm not responsible for things that J.K. Rowling keeps writing in her books. That's why this story is AU.

**People Who Cared**

5.

"Being a nice guy is exhausting."

James nodded.

Sirius was sitting hunched on a chair and absentmindedly playing with his coffee cup. There was weariness in his face and posture, but under it's thin layers lurked the anger of a mad animal. James knew his friend good enough to know that something of catastrophic proportions had to happen to induce this kind of murderous intent. He was dying to find out what.

Around them, people were moving. The small hospital café was full to overflowing with Healers, patients and visitors. Their voices were creating a constant buzz which, to James, was soothing. Colorful robes and smiling faces symbolized a life as it should be.

"Still, I don't like Snape."

James nodded.

"He has to be a Death Eater."

James nodded.

"Did you look for his Dark Mark?"

James nodded.

"Nothing?"

James nodded.

"Well, Moody said that they are not visible all the time. It's not a definite proof. Hey, stop bobbing your head and say something, will you? I think I'm going bonkers."

"I'm waiting for you to get to the point", Prongs said sarcastically. "You see, it was a rather tiring day."

He confirmed it, taking a huge gulp of his coffee. Sirius threw back his head and howled with laugh. Some people stared at him, startled. A little girl shrieked and clung to her mum. Nearby, there was a crash of broken china. Siri didn't look a last bit flustered about the induced chaos.

James clapped in recognition.

"So you think that _you_ have got the smelly part of a troll, do you?", Sirius asked, bending forward so that his face was only inches from James'. "But you weren't the one who had to talk to the Hag of the Century and wander through miles and miles of bloody wasteland in search of some godforsaken place which even bugs deserted. And after that all I had to be civil to an arsehole for the sole cause that he was a Muggle and no one wants the loons from the Wizard-Muggle Cooperation Department appear and stick one's wand in one's ass so deep that it shows up at the opposite side. A cheerful day, isn't it, my friend?"

"Well, but you didn't have to watch Snape's guts from inside, did you?", James asked pleasantly.

Sirius opened and closed his jaw a few times like he was trying to chew at a particularly huge idea. Then he vigorously shook his head. He snickered.

"What a couple we are, Prongs. Next step we should open a free St Potter's Hospital For Injured Death Eaters. You will be operating on them and I will be serving lemonade. Remus would make a good welcomewizard, he can smile to death even Voldemort. Peter will be a messenger, cursing with the letters tied to his tail. And little Harry will serve as a mop, doing his best, gathering the dirt."

"Stop daydreaming, Siri and get it out of the system. What has happened?"

"Mushrooms on the Moon happened. Have you ever heard this bizarre theory about infinite dimensions that create infinite universes where an infinite number of myselves live? This theory also says that we will never die, because, whenever something happens that causes our death, our soul simply jump to the other dimension where such thing has never happened. Crazy, isn't it? In this case-"

"Siri, I'm sorry to say that but you aren't making sense."

"Sense? Who, the fuck, care about the sense? All I'm trying to do is to be calm, rational and a tad philosophical about the things. So, as I was trying to say, in this case it is possible that there are, indeed, mushrooms growing on the Moon. And, there also exist a slim, but, mark my words, very slim possibility that I'm willing to apologize to Snape."

James coughed, spitting his coffee all over the table.

"Really?"

"Of course, It's largely theoretical. Never expect me to act on it."

"Anyway, It's still impressive", James admitted weakly. "Don't hesitate to tell me what has triggered such a drastic change in Black's Universe."

Sirius abruptly stood up and made it to the bar where he ordered something. The bartender, looking mildly offended, answered in a sharp voice that they are not serving alcohol in the hospital. Sirius scowled deeply and came back.

"Change of location", he said, looming over James. "That's not a place for people."

"Sure, mate. But I'm not in a mood for drinking."

"Don't worry. I will do it for us both."

&&

The shabby and shadowy atmosphere of the local pub, along with a generous amount of alcohol brought colour to Sirius' story. Following it, James was gradually finding that most of his guesses about Snape's life were accurate.

Blast it, it explained everything, even the behaviour of that thin, ugly firstie who eyed James with great interest and said "You are a pureblood, aren't you? I'm Severus Snape, a pleasure to meet you." And Potter, who was taught to despise the people that hated Muggleborns, sneered down his nose at the skinny teen. "Snape? Snape... Never heard of it. Are you a Mudblood?" Of course, after such a welcome there was no other possibility but to become enemies. Severus reacted rather strongly at James' provocation. Now, James knew why.

"First things first", began his story Sirius "I had a little chat with my dear mum. She was, of course, delighted to see me. She called me around twenty variations of a blood traitor and made a couple of charming promises concerning different parts of my body in direct contact with some choice curses before I managed to set forth the reason of my visit. To make her more likely to cooperate, keep in mind that she disliked Snape for his filthy origins, I fed her a horror story of us finding his bare bones along with his torn robes and one very full acromantula.

"Mummy loved every little disgusting detail. She is quite lonely in this huge, ugly house after dad and Reg were killed, you know, and always eager to hear the happy news. She probably thought that to be some kind of vicious Salazar's revenge on Elieen Prince for betraying her own kind-"

"Wait a mo. Elieen Prince?"

"Snape's mum. Men, you don't posses such an elemental knowledge? Was it only me who has to learn by heart every blasted pureblood family tree ten generations backwards?"

"Sorry to say, but yes."

"Now, you have really upset me, James Potter. You threw me into a Pit of the Deepest Despair where the light-"

"You are drunk, Siri."

"So what? Continuing with the story, I have laid out the nature of my problems. I have admitted aloud that I feel an overwhelming urge to send Snape's father a surprise gift of his son's remains wrapped in a Christmas wrapper tied with a red and gold ribbon, but I don't know his address.

"Mum wholly supported my little project. She lost no time to slander Snapes'. She has told me not only the address but everything she knew about them. It was a huge bunch of juicy facts.

"It seems that the Princes make the other pureblood families look innocent in comparison. The history of them meddling with the Dark Arts goes back to the Middle Ages. Elieen wasn't so much into it but, according to Mum, she couldn't bear to watch her family, which for centuries were the _crème de la crème_ of the English aristocracy, muddle through life as a part of a middle class.

"Her intentions weren't that bad, it was the method she chose that people frowned upon. It seemed that she believed the only way was to make her child into a next Dark Lord. Still, no one would disagree, because lots of people wished that for their offsprings. Hell, my mum wished that for me! But, she crossed the boundaries when she decided that she don't want any man to interfere in her child's upbringing. To ensure that, she married a Muggle."

"Really? And I was thinking they are doing it because of love."

"Believe me, there was no love lost between Elieen and Tobias Snape. The only person she cared about was her son but Merlin save me from such care. Not only she taught him the magic that no wizard or witch in his or her right mind, this including my parents, would ever try to pass on their preschool children but she also filled his head with stupid ideas. She was making Snape believe that, because he was a Prince, it made him in some way superior to his peers. What more, she was encouraging him to hate his Muggle origins. The nerve of this woman! Not that, mind you, his father was so difficult to hate. Even before Snape's birth there was a constant war in Snapes' household. Tobias was a spiteful man, not accustomed to playing a third part in the family life. Their quarrels became a daily routine, both of the parents ruthless in their dealings with the other. Till Tobias murdered Elieen..."

"What?"

"Mum refused to tell anything more about it. You see, it's called a 'difficult situation' if a mere Muggle kills a pureblood wizard. It should be quickly forgotten."

Sirius laughed mirthlessly. James understood him. He felt compassion for Snape, but it was a compassion of an outsider, a man who cannot dream of penetrating the minds of proper purebloods. Sirius was into it, Sirius knew what he was talking about. He experienced some of this first-hand. It was this stain on the soul of every young man and women from their society that let them feel a strange kinship when they found themselves stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Yeah, Jamie, I know, it's not funny. But it strangely reminds me of my brainless brother. A quiet burial, no guests and absolutely no inscriptions on the tomb... Poor chum, he dreamed of being famous...

"Let's go back to our hero number one. Mum says that this mad hag, Elieen, never thought to teach Snape even the most basic social skills. Well, I think she's got it right there as even now I vividly remember that greasy-haired loony I met at King's Cross. He probably thought himself a Prince of Persia at the time. Ha, ha, the school population, our charming quartet amongst them, quickly brought him back to reality."

Sirius frowned deeply.

"Now, the more I consider this the more I feel that Snape wasn't able to find a method in our success versus his fall. Very alike Reg, he was conditioned to be a person he could never dream of being, not with his character. He was told that friends are useless, bah, he was probably told that if he does that, people will react like that. And, like Regulus, he blindly believed in his parent's words. But it's not the way the society works."

"Wasn't he intelligent enough to see his mistakes?", asked James.

"No, you don't get it, Jamie. It's a bit like following your very own guru, your totem. You never notice other ways, other possibilities. Something very drastic has to happen, something against the deepest core of your nature, to make you open your eyes. Only then you can cut the bonds and be a free man."

"And if people were a tad nicer for him?"

"Ha, ha, Jamie! What then? What then? He would probably think that his mommy was right after all and still act like a complete bastard. It was a helpless case. You would have had to meet him when he was two or three to change anything. It's all in his upbringing."

"Still, you wanted to apologize-"

"Figuratively speaking, Prongs. If you let me finish my story? After the chat with my mum, I visited Snapes. I won't stop to describe the lengths I went to to find the blasted house. I have been already severely pissed off when I knocked. The surroundings were industrial, filthy and abandoned and the man that opened the door mirrored them. It was like I was looking at the older, Muggle version of Snape. Ah, his nose was more hooked but you probably won't believe me.

""Your son is dying", I said without permeable. I recognized him as a type that don't like idle chit-chat. But if I was expecting him to show a tiniest bit of worry, I was bitterly disappointed. His smile would have made a Grand Prize in the Unaffected Smiles Competition. His next words were said in that syrupy way which makes a man feel filthy no matter how many baths he have already taken. "At last. When is the burial?"

""Mr. Snape, I'm not sure you understood me correctly", I said, still very politely. This etiquette lessons with my mum eventually paid off. "Your son, Severus Snape, is currently going through some very difficult time in his life. As you are his only living relative-" "Enough!", exclaimed the man, laughing wildly. "Enough! Pass this creature a goodbye kick from me if you really must, but that's all." "Mr. Snape", I managed through clenched teeth. "If it comes to it, the burial-" "The burial? Throw him into some hole or other, it should satisfy him."

"Then, I recalled your expression, moments after you reappeared on the surface with Snape. You should have seen yourself, Prongs. And you even didn't like the blasted Slytherin.

"Something snapped in me. Thanks Merlin that the small rational part of my mind stopped me from committing murder. I was still shaken when I reached St Mungo's. Hell, I'm still shaken now. How much did I drink?"

"Too much."

"I thought that."

A heavy silence fell upon two friends. Sirius, looking seriously troubled, was checking the state of his fingernails. James lazily rubbed at his itching eyes. The sweet arms of sleep have already transformed the majority of his brain into an useless pudding. Any analysis of his friend's behaviour versus Snape's news was currently beyond his reach.

A whiskybug, the small golden insect that was equipped by the nature with an unique ability to survive on spirits alone, drunk from the drop of alcohol that clung to the table. It hummed softly with contentment.

"Go home, Prongs."

James started. He never realized that his traitorous eyelids closed.

"I'm not sure-" James frowned. All at once, he forgot what he was so unsure about.

"Yeah, you want to check if the bastard is still on our side of the veil. Don't worry. I will wrap him up for you and even sing him his favourite lullaby if it makes you both happy. Hell, it's not as I have a better place to go."

"Erm." Some tremendously complicated thought knocked at James' skull but it went no farther than that. His mouth opened in a yawn that threatened to split his face in two. Embarrassed, he covered it with both of his hands. "Ups."

"Jamie-"

"Yeah, go home. Bed. Rest. Understood. Will you manage it?"

&&

"Mr Snape, wake up. Mr Snape?"

Something had to be wrong. He knew that. There was this acid, chemical taste on his tongue and rock wasn't supposed to be so soft. A dull and very unpleasant ache was spreading down his body, oddly welcome after that terrible numbness of dying tissues. A million of red-hot needles were mercilessly pricking his toes. He tried to move his leg a little to escape their bites but the unused muscles replied with a sudden cramp. He groaned.

"Shoot him a dose of relaxing liquid, he is all tight. Here you go. Better? Now open your eyes and tell us how do you feel."

He did just that. Everything slowly came into focus - a group of people in lime-green robes hovering over him and whispering to themselves. Well, it nearly came into focus. Their faces were patches of white surrounded by dark aureoles of hair. Severus found it slightly disturbing.

"My-" His throat contracted painfully. His tongue was very dry and didn't fit into his mouth. It was difficult to form the words, but he tried, anyway. "Not... Not seeing well."

"Ah, yes. One of the effects of the acromantula's poison. I think it will get better in one or two days, but I'm afraid that your eyesight will never be back to one hundred percent."

"Is that the only permanent effect?", asked a young female voice.

"Well, it's widely known, that the poisoning of the brain could be never healed. But this man was terribly lucky. There was only a very slight damage. It may result in some problems with the memory but nothing more. And, of course, it will take a couple of years to restore his digestive system's functions. Do you know, Miss Hammilton, what type of diet is recommended for Mr Snape?"

"Er- The baby-like one?"

"Correct. Now, why?"

"Because his digestive system needs to grow up, sir. The one we provided him with is immature because we needed it to have an increased ability to restore itself. But, because of that, it is not prepared for adult food."

Severus barely registered their words. Suddenly, the great truth hit him. It was like a fresh breeze of sweet air tickling his nostrils. He was rescued.

He was alive.

"Mr Snape?" A soft hand brushed his cheek. He felt a cold rim of a glass touch his lips. He took a tiny sip. He never thought that drinking could be so hard and so wonderful at once. If only compare it to this dark and hopeless hours when he was drinking out of deepest despair... It was not so long ago... He pushed the thought firmly out of his mind. Every sip was easier than the previous one, his tongue again moist, his throat slowly relaxing. He never knew how it was possible that the water disappeared so fast.

"Now, Mr Snape. How do you feel?"

"Good." He said it with such certainty that he was amazed himself. But the strong feeling that was swelling in his chest since he was imprisoned under the ground spoke for him. He dimly remembered that it haven't used to be a pretty feeling. It was a coal dark, clammy mess of newfound determination and absolute terror, a feeling that claws at your mind and doesn't allow you to rest, to give up. But now, when the danger have passed, it somehow transformed itself into a contentment that Severus was unable to name. If Albus Dumbledore was nearby, he would have explained Snape what the joy of life is. But he was absent so the Slytherin was swimming all by himself in the sky-blue, lukewarm river of quiet happiness.

It was an unknown territory for Severus, who always took his life for granted and, to be honest, often imagined he was cursed with it by some vindictive god. But now, after paying a high price for it, he subconsciously felt that it is something that one had to held dear to his heart. He vowed to himself to never let anyone rob him of it.

"Any pain?"

"Stomach hurts a bit", admitted Severus.

"Don't worry. It will soon pass." There was laugh in Healer Fontaine's voice, filing Severus with a sense of wonder. "It was a piece of good work, what we together did, Mr Snape. I feel I have to congratulate you. We could have never achieved what we did without your... call it cooperation. It was a great show of magic abilities, Mr Snape."

Severus frowned, confused. "I'm not sure that I understand you. What kind of abilities are you talking about?"

"I'm afraid that I don't understand myself, too. The way in which you have stopped your own death is a mystery to me. It's probably your internal magic, but I have never seen it reacting so strongly. I can only hope that you will get to the bottom of it. And contact me, afterwards."

"Odd", commented Snape, but it was all he was willing to say at the moment. He remembered that terrible seconds all too well. _Wake up!_ He was screaming "No!", or maybe he was imagining himself screaming it and then something primal in him, some sub-subconsciousness, have also screamed. And he was awake.

That _something_ was alien to him and, as every alien thing, alarming. When he would get his books back, he would search for it. He would catch it, close in a cage and examine closely. But now wasn't the time to bother himself with it. He had more pressing matters in hand.

"Coming back to your present situation... We will keep you here for two or three days to be on a safe side that you are not going to relapse. But what are you going to do after that, you have to decide yourself. I'm giving you a fair warning, that the first month is going to be... problematic. First of all, you will be tiring very easily, even eating may become a major problem. Don't understand me wrong, Mr Snape, but the rebuilding of half of your body have eaten away all your strength, and it wasn't so impressive to began with. The second thing is that somebody has to keep watch over you, in case you fainted or get a severe case of indigestion. This somebody also needs to provide you with an special diet. So, Mr Snape, if you have such a person or a House Elf, then we will discharge you from the hospital. But if not, it would be better for you to stay."

Severus thought about his father and his good humour evaporated. He could clearly imagine his only relative's delight at seeing his son in such a state. As soon as the doors closed, he would be hit in head with the shovel and his body, still warm, would be thrown into the polluted river.

He also didn't have any friends worth mentioning. The thought that Potter could help didn't even cross his mind. Potter was at the time sitting in a very small cupboard in the deepest recesses of his brain. It was closed and labeled with huge, red letters: 'Don't think about this if you wish to remain sane.'

"I'm going to stay, then", he stated dully. All the normal people prefer to recover in their own homes, between their family members, he thought. Only such miserable creatures as him has to relay on pity of unfamiliar people. Maybe it was high time to get used to it.

Healer Fontaine stared at him with an unreadable expression but said nothing. Instead, he pulled out a rather long parchment and left it on the bedside table.

"It's a detailed list of products you are allowed and forbidden to eat. I advise you to get familiar with it. You won't be happy."

"Is it that bad?", Severus asked with a touch of dark humour. A snort was an answer.

"Good night, then. If you feel unwell, don't hesitate to call for us. We will be in the staff room."

They lime-green group left, leaving the door open behind them. Severus was lying quietly for long quiet minutes, listening to his soft breaths. He tried to fall asleep, but somehow it didn't work. The silence was unnerving.

He stared at the white wall opposite the bed. There was something black and huge hanging on it, but, no matter how he strained his useless eyes, how much tears he shed, he couldn't recognize it. Damn it, he thought, I'm becoming paranoid.

Then, he heard a sniffing.

&&

A sweet aroma of a fresh apple pie was a perfume of happiness. His wife was baking a cake. A little puddle of powder-blue robes, moving on chubby legs, landed before daddy's feet, all the time giggling happily. A pair of strong arms took him up, rising him to the level he will someday reach all by himself. Some day.

"And how is my big boy?"

"And how is _my_ big boy?" Lilly kissed him on the tip of his nose. Her own was white from the powdered sugar. "What kept you so long, James?"

"Long story." Potter took her by the arm and moved to the sofa. "Let me first kiss you properly. Then, you better sit down."

&&

"Merlin, Snape, I'm not going to bite you."

This words came from a human shape that suddenly appeared on Severus' bedside. The shape hiccupped loudly and gracelessly sank to the nearest chair. A strong smell of digested alcohol hovered above Severus like a thunderstorm cloud. Black? From all the people...

Snape slowly uncurled and tried to take on a look of dignity. It was difficult, as his eyes were tearing again while he made unsuccessful attempts to scrutinise the annoying Gryffindor.

He was angry with himself for the reactions he couldn't help. It was the second time today he humiliated himself before Black, and during the previous one he wasn't behaving like a frightened puppy. Blast his wounded psyche. Blast everything. His famous self-control went to hell.

"Hi", said the bastard.

"You are drunk. No, pardon me, you are pissed out of your head.", Severus commented nastily, while repositioning himself so that he was again lying flat on his back. Maybe, just maybe, if he close his eyes, the unwanted vision in dark red robes will simply disappear. He did it, waiting for an effect.

"Nice for you to notice it, Snape", Black answered nonchalantly. He refused to disappear. "So, am I right that you are again a whole snake? How long are they going to keep you here till they release you on the unsuspecting Muggles?"

Severus said nothing. What he dreamed of doing was to kick Black's ass if only to show him that he, indeed, felt healthy. But, because it happened to be impossible just then, he chose to remain silent. Ignoring the Gryffindor proved to be very effective when one wanted him to shut his gob and get lost.

"All right, I understand, this was too difficult. Let's move to the next one. How is Voldie these days?"

"Was it your attempt at a tricky question?"

"Ha, ha! Very funny, Snape! Terribly funny. Ha, ha! No, man, it's a direct approach. If I choose to be tricky, you will never know what hit you. Never, you heard it! Never!"

Sirius was holding his stomach and nearly felt from the chair, writhing with terrible joy. Slytherin rolled his eyes. There is no hope in this word for some people, he thought.

"Then, I surmise that you learn very fast", deadpanned Severus.

"I'm a very bright guy. Always the best grades, you 'member? So, tell me, man. You may be frank, you know. It's not as I'm going to roast you alive. For what team are you playing? You are with Death Eaters, aren't you?"

Severus bared his teeth, feeling hatred like a waterfall of melted ice fill his chest. "Those are dangerous questions you are asking, Black. Such kind of questions can make your head fall from your shoulders and roll to the opposite corner of the room. You have to keep in mind to always be sober while interrogating people. Men don't like to be asked about their allegiances." He said this in half-whisper, half-growl. A troubled drunken silence answered him from the area Sirius was currently occupying. He paid no heed to it. He was full to the brim with that terrible and wonderful feeling and it still expanded, consuming him whole... It was not the first time he was experiencing it's invigorating properties, but today it was somehow more powerful, more matured. He felt like he earned a gods' right to hate the people that mattered to him so much, people that had no problems with getting rid of him as soon as he stopped being useful. He was a tool... Lucius' eyes... Not a human... Voldemort's understanding smile... Only a tool... Always a tool.

"And the answer is _no_."

"He was there with you, wasn't he?"

"Who?" Severus didn't understand.

"Him. One of them. The Death Eater. He was there and did nothing, didn't he?"

Severus paled. How Black could possibly know that?

"Intuition, Snape. Intuition. I'm not that stupid, you know. So, this fella of you have betrayed you? Ha, ha! No, Snape! I forbid you to be angry with him. I will grant you my permission if you answer me one, last question. What would you do if your roles were reversed?"

With a small part of his mind that, no matter what, was always cold and sharp like a blade, Severus become aware of a strange thoughtfulness, so unusual for Black that it felt spicy and oddly intoxicating. Never before, Black appeared to him as a great thinker. It made their conversation nearly... interesting.

Black leaned back, a subtle air of Gryffindorish smugness around him. The question infuriated Severus. That was a low hit. He thinks that somehow, in that primitive way, he will manage to get me, thought Snape.

Hm. What have struck him so badly that his seemingly unbreakable pride suffered? That he has to restore his self-worth by comparing himself to Severus?

That two parts of him, one ignited, the other intrigued, were fighting for a better place, while he was forming a suitable answer.

"What would I do? What would I do? You have to be crazy, Black. I'm not walking around, betraying my friends here and there. No matter the tribe they chose. I... couldn't..."

The little hair on his neck stood up. The emotional part won. They were people that gave him their attention, that offered him opportunities. But no more. Now, he was again a lone, frightened animal, a very small one, with predators on his trail and an unfamiliar sky hanging above his head. He had his hatred, but, he realized, it wasn't enough to keep him alive.

It wasn't enough.

"Your friends?", Sirius' voice was like an acromantula's sting. Hurt.

"Black!", Severus cried. He didn't know if it was a voice of anger or a voice of despair. But every fiber of his body was trembling and he couldn't stop it. A forgotten part of himself was weeping and he couldn't stop it. "Have some mercy, you son of a bitch!"

Black laughed quietly. It was an empty laugh, an ugly laugh. It consisted of pure irony.

"It's my mercy, Snape. I care enough to save your evil soul. Rethink your priorities, man."

"And why do you care? Is that a show of your nobility? Blast you, answer me now! What's going on with you two?"

"That's exactly your problem. You never met the right people."

"You mean yourself? Oh, I met you, thank you very much."

Black rose from the chair and stood there for a moment, a dark, long-legged silhouette, swaying on his feet and scattering endless shivering shapes on the white wall. It was impossible to distinguish his face from the rest of his body, but Severus wasn't so sure he wished to see it's expression. Black sniffed the air and turned his back to Snape.

"This bed looks comfortable. Soft and everything. Do you mind?"

Without waiting for an answer he threw himself on the unoccupied hospital bed. The poor thing groaned under the assault. Black buried his nose in the freshly washed pillow and sighed contentedly. "Mmm, really nice. G'night, Snape."

"Wait! Are you staying?", Severus asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, I think I am. I'm too drunk to risk Apparating now. Besides, I like it here."

"Tomorrow, there would be some ugly paperwork to fill."

"Shut up. I will say that I'm your relative. I will prove it to them by showing them my family tree. I'm positive that fifteen generations backward there was a Prince woman that married into Black's family."

"I'm pitying her."

"Yeah, poor chum, he never knew what hit him."

Loud snores vibrated in the air. Severus scowled deeply. How was he supposed to fall asleep in such conditions? He blinked. Merlin, but his eyelids felt so heavy...

&&

"And that's it." James spread his arms. He felt beaten. Hell, he probably even looked beaten. "The whole sad truth. I don't know what to do about it all. About him. Merlin's socks, it's not as if he is my problem, not at all! But... There are some things that needs to be explained, some things that needs to be said. Blast it, I'm blathering again, aren't I?"

"Yes you are." Lily smiled. It was the warmest smile James have ever got.

"Do you understand what I meant?"

"Yes, I do. You want to help him."

"What? No, really. Why?"

"Because you are a noble man."

She said it with such certainty that it was impossible not to believe her. James frowned. Was he? He never considered it.

"So what is your advice?"

"Invite him. I haven't seen him for so long."

"What? You can't be serious! The lengths we went to ensure our child's security! No one knows about him, except of our closest friends! You want now to destroy it all? You want to reveal Harry's existence before a complete stranger, a man that very well could be a Voldemort's agent?"

"James! Listen to me! I care about Harry as much as you do and here, I see no danger. We have a big house, it's not as we would be showing Snape around. He won't even suspect there is another soul under the roof."

"Da!" Harry, the Master of Hiding, agreed heartily.

"Lily, it's unreasonable. You have never seen Snape in action. He has wolf's ears and sense of smell. He finds everything he wants to find. You cannot deceive Snape."

"Really?" Lily's eyes danced like faerie's wings. Mischievous and full of life. "Hm, let's assume you are right. But, what about Snape? Is _he_ in any danger?"

"I- No idea." James felt an iron fist grip his heart. He never thought about it, did he?

"Consider it, James. Because there, on the open, he is an easy prey."

James watched Lily, amazed. She was always an intense woman but that day she was nearly radiating with internal strength. He realized that for some reasons, known only to her, she wanted Snape in their house. He didn't ask her about it because he already knew what an answer he would get. Lily would flip her hair and laugh heartily. "Really, James. Are you again seeing a dragon drowned in a puddle?"

He turned to Harry. The boy's eyes were huge and attentive, like he understood everything.

"Papa. Da.", he said, looking very serious.

&&

_To Be Continued..._

A/N: That was a long chapter for you, my dear readers. I hope that it somehow compensate for the long wait. R&R, please, because it makes the writing all the more enjoyable. Also, I will try to answer all the questions you may have.

Yours,

Lilith


	6. Chapter 6

**People Who Cared**

6.

Once upon a disgusting morning, the whole sky was covered with huge bulks of late-autumn thunderstorm clouds. Their colour was reflected in the contents of a plate that was supposed to be Severus' breakfast. Snape was at the time pondering about the meaning of sacrifices one has to make to stay alive. His concentration was broken by the spoon filled with some of the tasteless-looking pulp. It was fiercely shoved into his mouth.

His taste buds roared in unanimous protest, his throat danced a cancan and his stomach decided that it's not its responsibility and turned itself off. The lower brain functions asked what the hell it is about and as the means of defense ordered Severus to spit out the disgusting substance. It joined it's friends in the bowl, making the whole lot a little less edible.

"Oh my, and what have you done?", the little round-faced black-haired female creature, race probably human, you never knew with such height and the olive skin, wasn't happy. Snape recognized it by the way she caught at her head and jumped up and down like a huge Snitch. Of course, coincidentally, she dropped the bowl, spilling the lukewarm substance all over Severus. It set her off even more. She shook her little fist at Severus. "It's not proper! You have to eat something!"

"Something yes, but not _that_. I'm not going to let you poison me", answered Severus gloomily. "And if you please clean my sheets I would be so grateful. One minute more of that smell and I'm not sure I would be able to eat anything."

"You are becoming hysterical!", snapped the woman. With an exaggerated move she took out her wand, short and rounded on edges like herself and vanished the remains of Severus' breakfast. But she didn't put it away. She stayed with the wand in the air, it's tip trembling slightly, her person reminding Snape of a very determined pygmy puff prepared to battle a mountain troll. He didn't like it. He didn't like it a little bit.

"I'm not", Severus stared intensely at the woman, trying to get into her dumb head that hey, he was only trying to be reasonable. "Simply, I don't wish to be fed with chopped soles with addition of a three-day-old scrambled eggs."

"It's highly nourishing-"

"Bon appétit, madam!"

She reached the new levels of anger, Severus noticed. If you were to measure them by the trembling of one's hands, now she was mad like a hippogriff. "Mister, you are prescribed a special diet! You know the meaning of a special diet? If you are not going to eat properly, we will have to subside to harsher methods, like feed you through a tube ..."

On that words, Severus' heart tried to get out through his larynx. It's no fun, he managed to think before his vision blurred and he found himself floating in the vast, endless space of an universe. In the never-ending darkness the stars were blinking at him ... No, he realized. They were eyes. They even had pupils and little, wicked lashes. Merlin, Severus thought, all that people want to kill me. And they will do it and I have no air in my lungs to call for help. What if one of them is Dark Lord? Master, I was an obedient little servant, don't you remember? But now I have become no more than a cannon fodder. All by your orders. My usefulness have expired so you decided that I was better dead than alive. Was it the prophecy? Were you afraid that someone might get an air of it? Now you think I'm dead, don't you? My Dark Mark is silent. But if you somehow knew... You could come to me and feed me all your... my... elixirs and I can't even lift my finger. Acranius... Whirling Death... Rabbit In The Hole, that fluid shit, Merlin, and I thought _that_ was funny! ... Where are you now? See, I'm an easy prey, all that bloody faithful Slytherins which vowed to be my friends turned their backs on me. I know that you know, I feel it deep in my bones ... What are you waiting for? Eight pairs of hungry eyes ... No! I don't want to be defenseless! I don't!

Somewhere, on the other side of the universe, someone was getting an earful from other someone. Severus couldn't catch the meaning but the words were harsh, as was the man's voice. There was a high-pitched timbre of woman trying to explain something, and then even more shouting. The door closed with a loud thud. A pair of warm hands caught Snape's head.

Easy. Everything's all right. Easy.

Then, Severus' subconsciousness decided that it's enough of torturing him for now and let go. All at once, he was seeing clearly. Even too clearly.

"Potter."

"Hiya, Snape!"

Where were you?, a wholly repellent question was pushing at his mouth, wishing to get out. Severus swallowed it nervously. He had enough embarrassment as it was, because when he blinked ... He understood where the odd sharpness of his sight came from. It were the tears. Blast it, he didn't cry since ... Since he was too little to remember it! What was becoming of him? And with Potter to witness it, couldn't the gods spare him even more shame? Is the bastard laughing at him now?

He looked up at the face that loomed over him, prepared to see a sneer of the century. Wait. Red nose, swollen eyelids, moist eyes... Potter, what's up with you? Such a hard-ass sniveling?

"Why are you crying?"

Potter withdrew hastily, his face again becoming a blurred oval with a mop of black hair surrounding it. Severus, who was an eager observer, found his disability more than mildly irritating. He sighed. "Stop playing hide-and-seek with me and come here. I take it that you have a good reason to behave like you do." You are not me, after all, Severus added silently.

Potter sat himself on a chair and hid his face in his palms. "Well, I'm rather upset, myself", he admitted, his voice muffled by his hands. "One of my friends... He is dead, you see."

"A close friend?"

"No. You probably never met him."

"War business, then?"

"Yeah. War business. Yeah."

The silence that have fallen between them was amiable enough. Severus found out he rather liked it. It would be most inappropriate to break it by starting a talk about the matters of broadly understood war. Snape had just a feeling that the roles Potter and him played in it were rather opposite, not to say hostile. It could put a strain on their relationship, whatever it was.

"So you see", Severus snickered. "I suppose that blasted woman pre-diagnosed me. I suppose she have never dreamed that I would really go into hysterics. She fled the room as soon as she saw me truly hysterical."

"What? No. Actually, it was me that scared her." A small smile greeted Potter's face. "I gave her a piece of my mind. I think that I've got a little carried away with it, but who cares? She earned it."

"Really, there was no need to bother-"

"Take it easy, man. You have a right to bite her stupid head off for her behaviour. It was, don't be afraid to say it, unacceptable when dealing with a traumatized patient."

"So, what you are trying to say is that I have a sacred right to go bonkers when I choose to?", Severus sneered. "I'm not that traumatized, thank you very much. I'm able to think rationally-"

"Oh stop it, man! You are not mental, It's a purely psychological problem. It will pass with time. And, if you are worried with that bitch... Well, it's our special Hogwart's offer for her."

Severus could clearly imagine the wicked gleam dancing in Potter's eyes. Once a rule-breaker, always a rule-breaker. "I'm touched. See, I thought it was destined only for me."

"Shh, you slippery snake. You have already destroyed my Grand Entrance. You know, I came here because I thought you will make a jolly company."

"A room just behind that wall, Potter. The man overdosed the Giddiness Elixir. He nearly giggled himself to death."

"I thought about you, Snape! You and your famous newfound sense of humour!"

Severus frowned deeply. It was not right. Potter's laugh was not right. It was somehow sticking out, hovering above Potter like a translucent yellowish mist, not really connected with the rest of his person.

Suddenly it struck Severus that for some reasons he couldn't fathom Potter, who was having a difficult time in his life, chose his company above others. Maybe he really got into that crazy head of his that Snape's company can make him smile again. Merlin, does it mean that now I have to help him, thought Severus, slightly panicked. He had no idea where to begin. He never helped anyone, of course if you took out of the equation the people whom he helped to get through the veil, but that was hardly a case.

On the other hand, there was the debt. There was also this simple necessity to return, even if only partially, the favor of being saved from a live-threatening situation. After all, it was essential when dealing with allies. And Potter, no matter how unusual an ally he turned out to be, was the only one Severus had.

If Severus learned anything during the long days in Hell, it was two things. First: you need allies. Without them you are as well as dead. Second: your allies should not hold any power over you. If they do, they could dispose of you easily enough. Your allies have to be either your co-workers or your subordinates. Never your superiors. Never your friends.

"Well, Potter. If it's any entertainment to you, after dinner Mr Glossy from Diagon Alley will drag himself here. I have a wholly terrifying impression, that his mission is to make me wear glasses."

Severus' mission was accomplished. Potter nearly fell from the chair, so agitated he was. "What? You? Glasses? Snape?"

"Imagine it."

"But why?", Potter wheezed.

"So that I can see clearly your ugly face", Severus stated pleasantly enough. "It happens that the close contact with acromantula's poison turned me into a shortsighted cripple. My eyes need an artificial support."

"Snape... You... I mean, you really have to wear glasses?"

"You haven't monopolized them, do you, Potter?"

"No, I... I mean..." James shook his head like he was trying to shuffle his thoughts so he could have an easier access to the rational ones. "What I wanted to say... Eh, Snape, it's not like yourself. I mean, you always had a hawk's sight."

"Not anymore. Today, I'm afraid, it's more flubbeworm-like. So, are you going to trust me with the choice? Once in my life I can make an attempt at being fashionable. " Severus grinned, seeing the horrified expression Potter made.

"I understand that my presence is essential", stated Potter gravely. "I don't dare to imagine what your definition of fashionable is."

&&

Later that day, an unusual guest visited the ward where Severus was currently lying. Snape ceased staring at the monotonously white ceiling, an activity his bored-to-death mind have chosen to save itself from a mental suicide, and redirected his wits to a careful observation of an intruder. Severus' subconsciousness instantly categorized him as harmless. Snape marginally relaxed.

Mr Glossy was a small, delicate man with spider-thin arms and minuscule round glasses perched on the top of a petite nose. He was carrying a black briefcase, glaringly huge when comparing to his gaunt figure. His little business smile greeted Snape, who nodded back keeping his face politely blank.

"Ah-ah, what a miracle, what an incredible miracle do we have here! You are a truly lucky man, Mr Snape!", Mr Glossy exclaimed, when, with his back turned to the patient, he was rummaging in his briefcase. He pulled out a rounded silver thing, similar to a very fat wand. His dexterous fingers danced around it a bit, pushing here and touching there, till a concentrated ray of blue light appeared on the very top of it. Then, Mr Glossy approached the patient. "Do you feel any pressure or pain inside your eyeballs?"

"None at all", Severus answered, observing with curiosity the instrument in Mr Glossy's hand.

"Good-good. Now, I will ask you to look straight at me and do not blink. This light will hit your eyes and you might feel a tingling but there would be no pain. Are you ready?"

Severus nodded and watched the man, who seated himself on the edge of Severus' bed and moved the instrument so that the light was pointing in Snape's direction. It was an odd sensation, he decided, like someone was trying to get into his eyeballs. It ended quickly enough and Severus breathed out with relief. Meanwhile, a small ruler appeared in Mr Glossy fingers and it jumped to measure Severus' eyes and face. Mr Glossy clapped his hands and a pair of rather heavy-looking glasses with rimes made of some kind of metal flew to him. He waved his wand above it, making a couple of complicated incantations.

When the glasses landed on the top of Severus' nose and when he at last felt the unfamiliar pressure, his first thought was: Oh shit, so here I am, double-eyed on the top of it all. And that thing is damn uncomfortable!

However, the next one was: I'm no longer half-blind. What a relief. Never thought, that it could be such a relief. I can even count the freckles on this little bastard's face. Wearing that glass-made nuisances is worth it, after all.

The third one was: How Potter could bear it? I think my nose is falling off.

This precise moment James chose to appear on the scene. Hiding behind him, one Sirius Black was giving Severus a smirk of the century.

"Are you seeing perfectly, Mr Snape?", asked Mr Glossy, oblivious to the new company.

"Yes, perfectly enough to wish I could kick that smirk into his brain."

"Ah-ah, superb! That will be six and six coma half, then. Don't make faces, Mr Snape, it's only one of my instruments. The real glasses would be a great deal lighter."

"Good. I thought I would be wearing this monstrosity."

In the entrance, Black was making vague movements indicating that he is seeing some kind of exotic birds with long beaks and monstrous bulging eyes, flying around and from time to time uttering hilarious squeaks. Severus proudly ignored him.

"Now, Mr Snape, you only have to choose a model you like."

Mr Glossy closed his briefcase and opened it again. When he presented it's insides to the patient, Severus saw innumerable pairs of glasses staring up at him. There was also a square mirror. Snape took a glimpse of himself in it and froze.

His reflection has dry, parchment-like skin, sunken cheeks and matted black hair hanging around the face in limp strands. Out of the face a pair of black eyes was looking at the world, full of feverish fire, the only living feature of him. He looked hopeless, powerful and crazy - all at once. It isn't surprising that Potter took pity of me, thought Severus. I would have taken pity of myself too.

"Mr Snape?", inquired Mr Glossy.

Severus choose a small round black-rimmed pair of glasses. The effect wasn't impressive if one counted the odd sounds that suggested that someone somewhere nearby was trying hard not to suffocate.

"No-no-no! You look like a blind chicken! Tell him, James that he looks like a blind chicken!", Black yelled, appearing beside his bed. "A chicken is not becoming of you, Snape."

"Yes, I understood you perfectly after the first time.", snapped Severus.

"And here intervene the international glasses-fashion specialists". Potter grinned widely, stepping from behind Black. "We will show you what you can do with your glasses. No, Siri, sticking them up your ass is not recommended. First things first, we need to get rid of that." In one move he pulled the glasses off Severus' nose. "Now you need something in what you won't look like you've got pig's eyes. We should-"

"We should cut off that hair. I'm having murderous thoughts every time I'm seeing it. Don't ogle at me like you want to gut me, Snape. I promise I won't do it in your sleep, I have some of my self-preservation instincts left. But you have no excuse to hide behind it all the time, you are far handsomer than a goblin. Wait a mo... I'm sure I had it somewhere..."

To Severus' terror, what Black pulled out from his pocket looked like a female stocking. Unmoved by it, Sirius transfigurated it into a silk ribbon. Till his bewildered victim had time to brace himself to protest, Black gathered his long hair and tied them together on the nape of his neck.

"Far better", Black opined, brushing his hands against his robe. As Severus saw it, he didn't feel better. He felt exposed. And when exactly did he give permission to Black to touch him?

"Yes, that's it. You should leave them like that.", said Potter softly, trying the next pair of glasses.

"And you even began to look like a human being. You need only to...", Black stared at him and paled. "Oh, Merlin... Professor McGonagall, it was the last time! We solemnly promise to be good boys!"

"We won't be leaving the dormitory after ten to try out our new brooms inside the castle...", Potter added, looking funny.

"And if we ever see a teacher calling us to get off that brooms that instant, we will do it instead of dancing a wild broom-dance above said teacher's head and crashing into an ancient chandelier..."

"Take it off me, now!", shrieked Severus who suddenly found his voice.

Potter, gasping for breath and brushing off the tears, fulfilled his wish. "You know, there are also the ones that look so Dumbledore-like... Want to try it on? Er- It was only a thought. I will search for something more preferable."

"Find him something that makes his eyes look bigger and his nose a little less like a flag on the mast", Black tossed out, emanating with rudeness. "No-no! He looks like a half-wit... And such ones my great-granddad wore when he died at age one hundred and thirteen. Merlin, Jamie, show me that collection. What do we have here?"

He throw aside a couple of glasses and, eventually, choose one. It was oval black and slim with only upper rims which curved elegantly just like Severus eyebrows. "Yes, that I understand."

"Er... Didn't he look a bit like a starving feline?"

"No, it's ideal. He only need to recover a bit of flesh. Don't you agree, Snape?"

Severus, who privately agreed with James, nodded feebly. After all, from what he saw, there were only worse options. He simply had to get used to wearing the blasted things.

"Perfect! Perfect!", Mr Giddy nearly bounced with happiness. "I will be back in ten minutes, then. I need to caliber the chosen model."

An uneasy silence have fallen between them when the third part disappeared. At last, Potter seemed to remember about something and he retrieved a little square object from his pocket. He enlarged it and handed to Severus. It was the "Insight into the Natural Magic" by Abermus Abbleby.

"Er. I thought you may find it interesting while you are stuck here and dying from boredom. It's very apropos our previous discussion. We can afterwards try some of the described methods... Of course, if you wish so."

"Ah, I've nearly forgotten! You are a magus, Snape?", asked Black, a hint of irony dancing in his voice. "That extremely powerful guy, the Earth at his feet, the stars and planet at his service? Wow, I would never guess."

"No, I'm not.", muttered Severus, bet red. He was clutching protectively the book, but it didn't help to spell away Black's all-too-curious stare. "It's only a figment of Potter's imagination."

"And there McGonagall thought that I have no imagination.", James winked. "The truth is, we don't know what's going on. But just in case, you better watch out, Siri. You don't want to wake up as an uglier part of a camel."

"I don't need any godly powers for it. It's enough that I know a couple of nasty hexes."

"Try it."

Severus looked at Potter's outstretched hand. There was his wand, his beloved piece of wood. Oh, but he missed it. He wanted to grab it... But he was so depressingly weak. He managed to rise his hand but it was trembling as it held the wand. Potter took him by the wrist and kept it steady.

"C'mon, cast something."

"Why?"

"Well, I've read a nice theory in the book I brought you. It says that sometimes the traumatic events changes dynamics of one's magic. I would like to see if it changed yours. It may give us some insight into that outburst of magic that kept you alive."

"You like it, don't you, Potter?"

"No, I'm simply intrigued by it. Once in my life, I've studied the natural magic and I know that odd things happen people under a great stress. Now, try something."

"What?"

"Something maggus-ly, like: Asteroids Come Down And Squash My Enemies!", Black said cheerfully.

"Really."

"Of course, if you aren't feeling up to it, a Lumos would be enough. Who knows, you may even be able to turn off the sun."

Sirius never noticed the evil grin spreading on James' face. Severus said the words and felt an odd itching under his skull, just between his eyes. He sneezed powerfully a couple of times, nearly sneezing his brain out through his nose, but it didn't help.

"He did it! He did it!", roared Black, rolling on the floor, his hands on his face. Severus' jaw dropped because really nothing happened except from a tiny bluish light appearing on the top of his wand. Then, Potter winked at him and show him his own wand and Severus understood.

"Get that bloody sun back on, Snape! I was only kidding! ", moaned Black.

"I'm not sure I want to do it", said Severus, feeling positively evil. "I don't like you, after all."

"Better do something, Siri.", said James, his voice deadly serious. "I also want that sun back."

"All right, all right! I'm sorry. I'm really bloody sorry!"

"Sorry for what?"

"For bloody everything! Snape, it's no fun!"

"I think we should end it", mouthed James. Some selfish part of Severus wanted to continue but he understood that that was the absolute maximum of what Black's pride could endure. Severus nodded and James ended the spell.

Sirius stood up and looked wildly around. As soon as he saw Severus' Lumos, he understood. "You two!", he hissed, trembling with rage. "And you, Jamie, how could you?"

"Easy. I know you didn't mean it.", said Severus, grinning. "But it was a great show, nonetheless."

"Bastards", snapped Sirius. He left them and moved to the window. He stood there staring through it, clenching and unclenching his fists. Severus smirked at his back. The justice existed, after all.

James cleared his throat.

"All right. Siri, stop pouting and come over here. We need your expertise. You were always more into theory than me."

Black turned to them. "So, it looks like it didn't work. Not that I'm surprised. It might have been only a once-time outburst of magic. Snape has to get used to being a completely ordinary wizard. Sorry, Snape."

"Er- Siri? Do you remember what you said today?"

"So what? Maybe I was only making you feel better. Your monologue was so intriguing, after all"

Black shrugged like he wanted to say that really, he couldn't care less.He grinned innocently. James was frowning deeply at him, but he couldn't hope to get any response. He looked back at Severus.

"Maybe you should said it with more of an intent?", he suggested.

"What do you mean?", asked Severus, confused.

"Put your heart to it."

"Er- I want it to bloody Lumos! LUMOS!"

The light became marginally bigger. The odd itching Severus felt changed into a point of warmth that was slowly spreading to the others parts of his brain. And that was all.

"Maybe you are still to weak."

"And maybe there is really nothing special about me", muttered Severus.

&&

Late in night, Severus awakened to a deafening silence. That was a type of it that was usually created by a very loud noise happening just a moment before. Indeed, the last part of his dream was about the walls of the hospital crumbling and covering his dead body with tones of debris. Severus, his eyes wide and unblinking, listened to the silence.

It whispered to him stories about soft steps of people who wished their presence won't be noticed. It tingled inside his nostrils, a slippery smell of an incoming danger. That were signs as unnoticeable as a breath and as true as the blood flowing in his veins.

He was right, they knew. They tracked him, leaded by a fresh scent of his fear. They came to extinguish his fire, the fire he came to love too much. The Dark Mark on their forearms was blinding him even through the walls.

Clenching his teeth and repeatedly cursing his disobedient body he managed to fling his right leg over the edge of the bed. Now only... Only... With a desperate push of his hips he turned on his belly, from where the gravitation pulled him to the ground. He landed like a sack of potatoes, biting his tongue hard to not cry out in pain.

Now... And now... But, he realized, it was impossible. He was so hilariously weak. Too weak to move anymore. He was on his back on a cold, hard floor, his head thudding like hammers of Hell were working inside of it, his tongue a pool of fluid blood. It was spilling from his mouth, running down his cheek. The door opened to a slate, letting a small ray of light come in.

That's the end.

"Snape? Snape, where are you? Oh Merlin!"

Potter? What the fuck Potter is doing here? Where are the Death Eaters?

The silhouette strode to him and knelt on the floor. Potter was panting, like he just run a marathon. "Poor guy, you wanted to escape, did you? You have heard them and wanted to hide? They are not after you. So-sorry I couldn't come earlier... Really sorry. Oh my, what have you done to yourself?"

Severus wanted to tell him to kick himself in his sorry ass, but suddenly he realized that his mouth are full of something metallic. He swallowed it with no small amount of disgust.

"Open your mouth."

It was more a question than an order but Severus to his surprise found out that he is obeying it almost subconsciously. He had to trust Potter on some deep level, he realized.

Potter easily enough healed the swollen tongue. When Severus felt he was able to talk at last, he whispered "Well, don't you think it would be nice to move me back to bed?"

"What?" Potter blinked. "Er, no, I don't think that leaving you here is a good idea. The bastards are still somewhere in the hospital. You don't have a death wish, do you? So... Do you have somewhere relatively safe to go?"

Severus paled. The question he secretly feared came out like a huge ugly cockroach. He had the family house, where he won't survive a single day. An empty flat in London, but the emptiness of it which never before has bothered him now seemed unbearable. His dear ex-friends... Out of question. There was no place in this world where he would be welcomed, he thought sadly.

"No, I haven't", he voiced a painful truth.

"Hm." Potter looked like he was battling with himself over an issue that was extremely unpleasant to him. Probably me, thought Severus. What an useless bastard I became. The frown creasing James' brow was going deeper and deeper. At last, he seemed to give himself a powerful mental kick.

"So there is really only one option left. You go with me."

"Where?"

Somewhere nearby, glass was crashed. Potter jumped and let out an impressive string of curses, which amazed Severus. Even he didn't know some of them.

Potter's breathing accelerated to the rhythm of approaching steps. Severus felt panic rising in his chest. Was he doomed? But no, Potter was pushing something square and hard into Severus' hand. "Hang to it", a fierce whisper tickled Snape's ear. A moment of doubt overcame him... Blue light exploding behind his eyelids, a sense of rush-

The meeting with the ground wasn't as unpleasant as previously because he landed on Potter. The warm shape groaned and grumbled: "Get off!". When the words brought no immediate action it pushed Severus off.

"Uh. Welcome to my house." Potter grinned downwards at Severus. Snape decided that even from horizontal position it was looking quite nice. The ceiling was beige-coloured and a wooden carved chandelier was hanging in the middle of it. An air was full of aromas of wood and honey.

"What now?", asked Severus, not eager at all to move. The carpet was fat and quite nice to lay on and the warmth suffusing the air was beginning to melt his bones into a delightful puddle. He closed his tired eyes - only for a second. He felt himself getting lighter and lighter...

Someone picked him up. "Where is your weight gone, Snape?", said a distant voice.

"Where are we going now?"

"What? Nowhere. Didn't I say that you are staying with us? This place is so full of loons that one more or less will make no difference."

It was too... To otherworldly to be true, decided Severus. It wasn't his life, it couldn't be. Such things didn't happen to Snape. His fate was to die in that cave, abandoned and forgotten. Well, maybe not forgotten. Potter would have said one day "You know, there was once that Snivelly, that freak, did you ever wondered what have become of him?".

But he was here. The bed was real and soft, as was the blanket he was covered with. He was bathing in pure fluid warmth and it's rays were soaking through his body and his soul. He was feeling like laughing and he was feeling safe. He had no idea why, it also had to be something psychological. But he had an urge to tell things. Mostly about Potter, who so abruptly ceased being a bastard. But what exactly? At that precise moment he had no idea. Of course, there was always something obvious. Well, maybe not so obvious to Severus. But, for the very first time since his birth he felt like speaking the words.

"Thank you", he whispered. And his heart was in it.

The last thing he registered was a sad sigh. And a crack of an Apparition.

_To Be Continued..._

AN: So now we are moving into Potter's. I hope you liked the chapter, I've had lots and lots of fun while writing about Sev's glasses. Next chappie... Well, it will be interesting. R&R, please!


	7. Chapter 7

AN: New chapter, after a break so long that it doesn't deserve the name of break! I won't write sorry once for every day I left you waiting dear readers only because it would have turned out quite boring, not to say it would have made your eyes water and from the aesthetic point of view... Anyway, my beloved readers, this story WILL continue and there is much more to come...

Enjoy the reading!

PS The back story of book 7 is included in this fiction. Still, it's AU.

**People Who Cared**

7.

Severus woke up feeling like he slept for centuries. His mind was clear and his body rested - the feeling he dearly missed. Soft lights of the day were dancing on his face and illuminating the caramel-colored walls. The sun was inviting him to look around.

It appeared to be a guest room. It was simple enough - one bed and a couple of beechwood furnitures. Landscapes were hanging on the walls and somewhere a clock was ticking softly. On the nightstand there were three books, a roll of parchment, his wand and a pair of glasses... Also his, he realized. He reached for them. His hand was trembling slightly but he managed to put them back on his nose. Better.

Once again he examined the room. The clock pointed at six in the morning. Everyone was probably still sleeping in... Potter's house. He stiffened, a feeling of dread creeping over him. Unreasonable and unwanted but still there, as powerful as four years ago. It panted inside his skull. _Ah__, so you took refuge in the house of your ex-enemy, it whispered. A brilliant move, Snape. What the hell were you thinking?_

I wasn't thinking, there was no time for that! My life wouldn't be worth a Knut if we stayed a little bit longer.

_So what now? You are here, helpless as a baby and on Potter's mercy. Are you so stupid that you believe in his mercy? What if this show of golden heart was only an act on his part and he want to use you like many of your so-called "friends"? He can blackmail you into obedience, or worse, kill you and no one would be wise._

No one cared even before. So, looking from a slightly different angle, my situation improved.

_And you are so blinded by Potter's newfound humanity that you choose to ignore your common sense? You are an intelligent man, Snape. Where is your rational thinking gone?_

I'm... I'm not! I... I remember Potter being an utter bastard but now... Please... I need to believe that Potter is a decent man. I have to believe in _someone_. If not, I think I will die from terror...

_You were never terrified._

I was... Not so long ago. I simply forgot how to be it. Now, I remembered. And I hate it.

_Profound thought, Snape. And, because of that, you are hiding behind Potter's back? Are you a man or a poultry?_

Shut up!

But it was so true, he thought gloomily. He knew that at some point of his life he will have to put himself together and face the world but just now, as he was seeing it, it bordered on impossible. It was so easy to count on other people. Even if they were James Potter.

Turning his mind away from unpleasant topics, Severus wondered about other aspect of yesterday's adventures. Death Eaters in the hospital...

What was the Dark Lord hoping to get from there? Or whom? Now it was only logical that it wasn't Severus himself and he simply panicked - the Dark Mark was still silent and invisible. It was the proof in itself that Voldemort was blissfully unaware of his continued existence.

And he needn't forget that Dumbledore must've got an air of the Death Eater's action. It was the only possible explanation to Potter's presence in the hospital. Severus could easily imagine the Great Quartet working for the Hogwart's Headmaster and the oh-so-famous Order of the Phoenix. They were, after all, his bloody favorites.

So, the Dark Lord wanted to get someone... No, too risky. He would wait till his victim left St Mungo to kill him, it was ways safer than riding a well-guarded building. The thing must be something that never leaves the hospital walls... What could it be? Severus knew it, knew it for sure, the information was somewhere in his brain... He only had to dig deeper...

"_...born as the seventh month dies..."_

The files! It was what Voldemort was searching for, the knowledge about children who could become a threat to him. Severus felt a shiver run down his spine. He hoped that Dumbledore's squad managed to stop the Death Eaters before they put their paws on the hospital files. Because if they did... Who knows how many infants would be murdered before the Dark Lord could feel safe? Pity that he hadn't thought about it before running to Voldemort with the information.

Why hadn't he?

This is how Lily Potter found him, pondering over things which cannot be undone and the ones that still could, when she came into the room with Severus' breakfast on a tray.

&&

"Well, Severus", she said with a calm expression of the lady of the house tending to her guest, while arranging the tray on his lap. But her green eyes were full of subtle light which suggested something deeper than casual courtesy. "Long time not to see."

Severus froze. How _could_ he forgot that she was here in this house? Potter told him quite a back story about their marriage, after all. He should have paid more attention...

So, it was Lily. She didn't change much. If so, it only made her even more alluring. She filled up, looking now like a mature woman rather like the teenager he knew in Hogwart. Her red curls were falling on both sides of the face adorned by seasonal freckles.

It was Lily. And they were literally strangers. They parted their ways long ago, all by her choice. Logically, it couldn't be prevented. She never really accepted the dark part of him because she never cared enough. He also shouldn't.

Some part of him couldn't disagree more. Some part of him insisted that it still hurt like hell.

Next betrayal. What a surprise.

"God morning, Evans", he said after a long and tortured silence. He made himself look at her neutrally, without any trace of betraying thoughts on his face. He mastered Occlumency in his seventh year, after all.

One of auburn eyebrows rose. "Severus Snape. You are in my house, using one of my rooms and eating that yummie-something which I had to prepare with covered nose and still you haven't balls to address me by my given name? And, by the way, it's Potter. It's ages since I'm married, you know."

"Never noticed." He sneered slightly. Well, he can play the game. "How is the married life treating you?"

"Better than yours is treating you", she snapped, looking half-amused and half-irritated.

"Well, than. Happy you."

She shook her red mane of hair in the gesture he remembered vividly from their childhood. Bloody hell, were it tears? "Oh, Sev... I can't believe what those bastards did to you. I'm so sorry..."

Severus wanted badly to ask her what she was sorry for but he couldn't find his voice. She was crying. Saint Merlin pants, and he was reacting to it as badly as always. Like he was some fool in love. And he wasn't. She betrayed him.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Lily"

"But I have, Severus Snape", she said very decidedly. "And I'm starting bloody right now."

With this words she shoved a spoonful of the gooey substance into his mouth. Severus swallowed it trying not to ponder over a taste.

"By torturing my poor tormented taste buds? I don't think I'm forgiving you after this one," he muttered.

"Good boy," she responded, smiling warmly.

&&

Severus woke up abruptly when the book he have charmed to hover above his head fell down and hit his nose. The resulting pain was enough to shake him from a slumber in which odd elements interwove creating dreams that left Severus seriously disturbed. The afternoon sun was painting golden splashes on the walls, floor and his bed. It had to be a warm summer day outside, thought Severus. Compelled by an odd urge he stood up and went to the window. He was surprised when he discovered earlier that day that he was actually able to make a couple of steps without stumbling or fainting. The speed of his recovery was stunning, nothing like long weeks in bed that the doctor anticipated for him. This alone was enough to make him think more intensively about the mysterious magic that so unexpectedly make it's existence known to him only to abandon him immediately afterwards. Or, was it possible that it was still here, his to use? Severus wasn't so sure anymore.

He sat at the windowsill with his back resting against the wall and looked outside. The little city was bustling with summer activity: various mothers dispirited by the merciless blaze of the sun and their own children's prattling was herding their offspring which bustled around the place, playing happily in every dirty children game imaginable. Not far away, teenagers were engaging in their own activities including sunbathing, ice creams and occasional snogging in the broad shadows of ancient elm trees. Men also were out, washing cars or barbing till perfection their precious lawns. All in all, it was a perfectly normal day of August. Just like in the village were he was born. Were he met Lily...

He should not think about her, he knew. But he couldn't help it anymore than sneeze. So many bloody happy moments of his life. She made the words of his mother come true. When he was with her he felt like real Prince.

The past. She should have stayed in the past, where she belonged. She have betrayed him. There won't be more shared secrets, private jokes or places known only to them. She kicked him out of her life so easily like he was no more but her domesticated rat.

"Knut for your thoughts, mate"

Severus nearly fell off the windowsill. So removed from the place he have been that he nearly suffered the grindylow's surprise bite and from no one but the trice damned Saint James. He revenged himself by hitting the stalker straight in the face with the Blob Spell. Potter shrieked like a girl when a fountain of pink goo hit his person.

"Bloody greasy haired git!", spat the Wonder of Gryffindor House, cleaning his robes with long angry swipes of wand. "That is what you call graciousness? I've saved your bloody life you hook-nosed misery!"

"That is how I treat the unexpected guests", said Severus with a pleasurable smile. He couldn't get enough of the beautiful view of his ex-arch enemy covered from head to toe with custard. "I hope you weren't on your way to meet the Minister, Potter."

"Spare me your commentaries", muttered Potter, still angry. "My fault that I've forgotten to never approach you unarmed. Guess last events relaxed me too much. By the way, nice to see you up... Merlin, Snape!"

Every feature of the room was dimmed giving him an impression that he was floating underwater... His heart was beating unevenly. His surroundings made a gracious flop.

"SNAPE!"

Severus opened his eyes. Oh, no. Only not this.

He was again in his bed, broken and unmoving like just after his accident. Even flexing his pinky turned out to be an impossible task. When he stared at the ceiling he could swear that the three-armed chandelier was still whirling in some kind of crazy faerie dance.

Potter was furiously paging one of the books. His anxiety, symbolized by the overly-tousled state of his hair, heartened Severus if even a little. It was nice that, for once, someone bloody cared.

"Merlin's balls, what the hell happened now?", whispered Severus, forcing the words through his unresponsive mouth. He swallowed with difficulty. His tongue felt like a low-quality parchment.

Again. Again, he lost control over his body. He abhorred the feeling. It enhanced his deeply laid fears that he won't be able to help himself the next time. He was a tree trunk floating in the sea. He could no more change the direction in which he was going than that piece of rotten wood.

For now, Potter appeared to be his sail. Talk about irony.

"First, you lost your consciousness. Then you nearly fell on the floor, good for you that I was standing nearby, the unplanned contacts with the radiator tend to be rather painful for one's head. Then you started to perspire copiously and shake at the same time. All in all, you scared the shit out of me, you masochistic fool", said Potter in a clinically detached voice. "I'm still wandering if simply killing you and ending our mutual misery isn't the best option."

"It won't serve your image as the greatest Gryffindor Saint of this Millenium", muttered Severus. "Cut the shit. Why that happened? It wasn't like I was overexerting myself or something."

"It might be just the thing you were doing, Snape. The doctor said you shouldn't be able to left the bed, even less stroll leisurely around like you did, for the next two weeks or so. I know that your craving for independence can take you pretty far but seriously, Snape... Just look facts in the eye. The only thing that was keeping you on your feet was your bloody marvelous infuriating magic. When you cast that spell... Well, to me it looks like it got distracted or something. And let go, leaving you, in a manner of speaking, grounded."

"Just wonderful. So now my elusive powers seem to have developed a mind of it's own?" Severus scowled in disgust. "Kirke and saint Merlin, Potter, find me something worth my time."

"You have all the time in the world, you unappreciative pain in the snake's ass" Potter sighed painfully, like a great hero left with an unbearable task. He opened on the page he had signed with his finger and proceeded reading while completely ignoring Snape. Severus soon realized that it was the book he was studying earlier, the same that brought to his attention some interesting possibilities.

"Potter..."

"Hm?"

"About the chapter twenty one..."

"Let mi finish it, all right?"

Next ten minutes passed. Potter was again getting agitated. He was eating a strand of his hair. It was disgusting. And Severus with every minute was getting more and more bored. And thirsty.

"Potter..."

"Shhh!"

"It would be oh so nice of you if you moved your scrawny Quidditch ass and brought me some water?"

Potter blinked. "What?"

"Water, Potter. You know, colorless, tasteless substance..."

"Ah! Water! I've never realized you use it."

Severus didn't honor this with a response. Ten minutes later he was ready to kill.

"Potter... How long one can read a bloody chapter?"

"Justfinishingit...", mumbled James.

"You found the note I left on the table?"

"Why, yes." Potter closed the book with the resounding thud which made Severus' body jump. "I brought you your clothes. I think that your underwear got packed too but I'm not sure as I preferred to not examine it too closely..." There was something in his face that said: One time was enough, thank you very much. Lucky for him he didn't say it aloud because Severus would somehow get out and strangle the foul-mouthed bastard. "Also, I wasn't able to localize your toothbrush. Guessing you are not performing this joyous activity with your razer I took the liberty to buy you one."

Severus kept his silence.

"There was a special offer in the shop, they were adding a comb for half the price..."

"Happy to be of service", replied Severus, staring fixedly at Potter's mop of hair.

"And that's why I like you, Snape."

"You like me? When did it happen?"

"Figuratively speaking. Now, let's take another look at the matter of your stubborn super-hero powers." James turned back to the maltreated book. "As I said, I used to study natural magic. What is believed is that you have twelve stages of awareness which could be neatly translated as twelve stages of magical power. Generally, people very rarely are able to supp the first two stages. Second one show the little kids untrained in the wand magic. Third... That's how far reach Animagi, werewolves, vampires and so on. Elves and goblins... Well, they are believed to hold powers of the fourth level. Still many to go, isn't it?"

"Interestingly so. Or, unbelievably. They are mythical, this upper levels?"

"You can say that. They were never proved at any living creature. However, it is considered that great wizards, like Dumbledore, Grindelwald or Merlin himself are superior to others just because they are using their natural magic simultaneously with the wanded one. Judging by the feats performed by Dumbledore one can guess that he can be the fifth or even sixth level. Merlin... He was believed to be the twelfth."

They were silent for a moment.

"Just how powerful is the twelfth?", asked Severus in a voice so soft as to not wake some vindictive and powerful magical forces.

"Think for yourself. He moved the mountains and created live thinking creatures..."

Severus snorted. He didn't believe any word of it. "That's not the point, anyway. The point is, what's pointing out to us the author in the twenty first chapter."

"Right. So, down to it. I think it's a marvelous idea. You should start using this techniques as soon as possible. Find your inner child, Snape. That's where the natural magic is beginning. Maybe it will help you unlock the powers. They are right fascinating, that methods of his..."

"There is still a possibility that my powers are unlocked, only currently occupied with my recuperation, as you stated yourself not so long ago. We can wait."

"We have no time to wait! You really want to faint every time you use some serious spell? And, Snape, did you finally started to believe me?"

"No, not such luck. Only, I did recall one of the controversial theories on the theme of the soul courses..."

"Dark magic in my home, Snape? I'm not going to dirty my ears. Bye."

"Wait, you narrow-minded asshole! It's theory and you better listen to it as it has far more sense that your insane ideas!"

To Severus' amazement, Potter actually stayed. It would be the first time he show some respect for Snape's expertise in the Dark Arts. Was it a signal of acceptance? No, Severus wasn't so stupid as to imagine that such 'noble' crowd as Potter and his clique would one day stop labeling this part of himself as evil.

They talked for the next half an hour, when Severus became so tired that he could not make himself keep his eyes open, least think straight. Potter carefully listened to his ideas. Then, contradicted the ones he thought were impossible. It prompted more explanations from Severus, some of them diving into more practical and less pleasurable parts of Dark Arts. Potter looked disgusted or deeply disturbed with most of them but he paid attention nevertheless. They did not reach a definite conclusion but promised each other to gave the matter some thought before talking it over again.

It was oddly refreshing if not a little bit strange, talking to an one hundred percent Gryffindor about things wholly slytherinish. It also, strangely enough, give Severus the courage to ask the question which he was turning in his mind for some days, now. Potter was getting ready to leave when Severus threw it at the unsuspecting Gryffindor.

"Potter, why did you do it?"

James looked at him blankly.

"Back there, I mean. In the cave.", said Severus, not too happy that he had to clarify that.

"I've said it then, didn't I? Didn't I state it clear enough?" For some reason or other, James suddenly started looking very uncomfortable.

"But, I mean, what have changed? Sorry to say it, Potter, but you were a smug little shit in the school. You never gave a damn about those who didn't concern you." Severus smiled self-consciously. "We were very similar in this aspect, me and you. And now... How this did happen?"

Potter was staring stubbornly at the wall.

"Anyway, I have to say..." Severus stumbled mentally over the words. "I'm glad you were there."

"Don't mention it."

"Honestly, Potter." Now Severus was getting angry. He was not the man to give out his thanks freely. And they better be accepted when he was offering them. "How many people in their right mind, being in your place, would have done the same?"

"Just drop it." James shook his head. "Please... Severus. Just drop it."

&&

It happened some five sunny days later of what Severus soon started calling "the first bloody holidays of his life". It was starting to change him, too. He was far less jumpy, for once. He also noticed that he was slowly beginning to let go of his constant alertness which made him ready to strike in every moment. This was commented on by Lily as 'mellowing', the word that made him screw his face in disgust greater, than any food of his so-called diet could make him feel.

Potter kept an unbreakable rule of not talking about his work within the walls of his house. It made their discussions a lot easier, if a little bit surreal. Severus wasn't so stupid as to not know why he was doing it – he wanted to keep every Order of the Phoenix secret out of the hearing range of the possible Death Eater. He avoided the uneasy subjects so dexterously that at times Severus wondered how the hell it happened that James from the Gryffindor buffoon turned into a cautious and collected warrior.

Lily was somewhere downstairs, preparing some deliciously smelling meal which wasn't destined for him and Severus in his room doing what he was doing always – trying to get some grip of his bloody stubborn magic. Getting those faint spells was turning out to be really annoying, not to tell dangerous – one moment he was feeling perfectly well, next he did some bit of innocent magic and he was down, rolling on the ground like some Cruciatus victim.

In that moment, he was sitting on the floor, staring intensely at four pieces of wood in different colors that were supposedly destined to help him unlock his childhood forces. It represented four most primal feelings – the red symbolized ire, yellow – happiness, black – terror and green – physical desire. It was generally known that natural magic can be freed while one experienced very strong feelings. It was common in untrained wizards. He guessed it would be far harder with an adult. Anyway, he put some well-stuffed pillows behind his back. One never knows.

He have just finished with the green one. It didn't bring him any notable effects, apart from head full of appetizing pictures and some uneasiness between his legs. He cursed loudly in French, just because he liked the sound of it, and moved to the red one. He really had many reasons to be angry. Like Voldemort. Like bloody Lucius Malfoy. He imagined their content faces and the hatred black like the deepest pit of Hell flooded his heart. Bastards. Bloody self-serving bastards.

He pulled out his hand and concentrated hard on the piece of wood. He visualized himself shoving it down their throats till they suffocate.

Al in vain. The bloody piece did not move even one millimeter.

Three down, one to go. Maybe it wasn't desire enough or hatred enough to move his magic? But Severus sure know how to hate. Then, what? He really wasn't so eager to remember his most frightening moments in life. Maybe something milder will do?

But just as he started he knew that it was impossible to avoid. It was too fresh, it left scars too deep... He literally felt the walls of the cave closing around him. Too late he realized it was a jump into injured chimera's claws. Everything was so depressingly frighteningly real... Just like the first time. He was trying to move, escape. He couldn't. Feelings of dread, helplessness and inevitableness squeezed his heart and filled his stomach with acid. He opened eyes and saw only darkness. He opened mouth to scream...

Something warm and heavy fell on his lap. He caught it with both arms and it wriggled energetically. What the hell?, thought Severus. It gave out an odd gurgling sound. Some cave creature? Did it have rows of sharp teeth which will devour his flesh? Severus examined it with his hands but it was soft, slik-like and it didn't seem to have any unfriendly ideas about Snape.

It grabbed at his nose and _squeezed_...

"Ow!"

Severus startled. Creature fell back straight on it's rump and, to his amazement, it started giggling. Snape blinked and shook ferociously his head to clear it from the residues of living nightmare. This thing, whatever it was, have saved him from impending insanity. If not for his painfully pulsing nose, he would be very grateful.

It just started to get up. He surveyed it from head to toe. The messy black hair could have had only one origin. But the eyes... It was like Lily was staring at him out of this little face, innocently and curiously at once.

Then, he realized. He was looking at James Potter's heir. Son of Lily.

Merlin. So that was why she was always in the house. Why did he never consider it?

He looked speculatively at the little creature, in this moment on an expedition to climb again on his lap. Severus caught it in time, just before his abused face feature suffered even more harm. He put it at his arms' length and stared the boy in the face.

"You know, I should hate you", he said, not without a small bit of wonder.

Potter's son wriggled even more energetically and managed to free one of his little hands. He reached in Severus' direction, but Snape turned away his head.

"Maybe you will be able to persuade me to do just that", muttered Severus.

Potter son escaped from his grasp and the next moment some serious pounds of toddler was hanging from his neck. How he could move so fast, one could only guess. Severus looked, half-irritated half-amazed, at the little face that was looking up at him so seriously one might think boy wanted to tell him something of extreme importance.

"Bu-bu?", said the boy.

Severus stared at him blankly.

"Bu-bu?", repeated the child, jumping up and down on his lap.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," said Severus in a tone of grand suffering. "If you want to be understood, learn some words that are actually English, boy. And stop maltreating me, if you please. I'm not a sofa."

The toddler stopped wriggling and was looking at him with a great concentration. Severus found it mildly disconcerting. He looked back. Potter's son giggled and tried to grab Severus' nose. Again. Snape batted away his fingers.

"If you try to do it one more time, You will find your digits will be cut off, peeled, chopped and made into an excellent potion ingredient. Do we understand each other?"

The insolent boy giggled. Severus scowled profoundly. Merlin, save him from such creatures in the future, he thought. He lifted Potter's chin. He pointed at his own nose.

"Don't do it", he said. "It's forbidden."

"Nu-nu?", asked the boy, shaking his head.

"Nu-nu", confirmed Snape, profoundly relieved.

Well, it looked like they had an agreement. The toddler abandoned Severus' lap and reached for the pieces of wood. He hit the yellow one with the green. So much energy, thought Snape. And he never supposed his existence until now... They had to hide him well, but not so well as to not allow an intelligent toddler escape. Potter's son put the yellow piece on the top of the red and than topped them with green. Black he seemingly didn't want to touch.

"You know, I'm probably not supposed to know about your existence", said Severus thoughtfully. "Maybe it will be better if you go back to your room. Come. We will search for it."

Severus stood up and offered an outstretched hand. The toddler put on it the green piece. He smiled widely like he was very proud of himself.

Severus shook his head, exasperated. There was no way he, in his present state, could make an unwilling child go with him. Well, if Potter's son planned to stay here, he could be at last useful. Natural magic was just natural to him, after all. He sat again and rose the green piece to his eyes, all the time looking at the boy. "You reckon you could give me a little bit of insight into my so-called gift? You are small and full of it. Well, see what happen. Catch!"

He threw the wood in the direction of the boy. It bumped away, like it hit some invisible barrier. Potter not even noticed it, all the time happily occupied with sucking his thumb and sliding the red piece along the carpet. Severus frowned. It indeed looked like the magic had the mind of it's own.

"Come here", called Severus, clapping his lap. To his amazement toddler obeyed with enthusiasm Severus have never experienced from anyone in regard to dealing with his person. It was, Snape had to admit, heartening, even if came from such a little nothing as this boy.

Severus kept him on place with one hand, the second he outstretched in the direction of the green piece. "Look, I can't reach it. And I really want to have it. Could you make it move in our direction? Hm?"

The toddler watched him attentively. "Ba-ba?", he asked. Severus once again show him to reach for the piece. The boy tried to get out of Severus grip. He is bloody strong, thought Snape.

Then, the piece of wood twitched.

Severus was so surprised, that he let go of Potter. Next second, the boy gave him back the green piece.

"Thanks... I wonder what's your name. Anyway, it looks that the key point are not the feelings but concentration. Or maybe it takes both of them? Oh, blast, I wish you could talk."

"He won't for the next couple of months. And it won't be scientific disputes, I'm sorry to say."

Next moment, the room was full of Lily's presence. The toddler happily run to her and she picked him up and kissed. Only looking at her expression, it was obvious that she loved him more than anything, probably including her husband. Severus for a moment felt an odd feeling like jealousy coursing through him. But afterwards it disappeared. It didn't have any sense, anyway.

Instead, he focused on Lily. She looked a little wary. "He came to me", said Severus, feeling oddly compelled to clarify it. "I guess he felt a little adventurous", he added, trying to make some kind of joke. He hoped that Lily didn't feel threatened enough to consider the Memory Spell.

"Oh, yes, he is adventurous all right. Aren't you, Harry?", Lily asked, looking marginally more relaxed. "I swear I left him only for a moment and put on every ward possible... And he somehow managed to escape. Oh, Harry." She kissed him again. "You little monkey. Don't make your mum so worried again, ok?"

"Ma!", assured her the toddler, embracing her fiercely.

"Well... So I guess you made each other's acquaintance. Let's present each other, than. Sev, this is Harry, my son. Harry, meet Severus, my old friend."

"Lu?", asked Harry. Severus, unexpectedly even to himself, laughed.

"For me, he speaks all right."

Lily smiled, visibly proud. "All right, my bright sweetheart, it's time for meal! And then", she looked pointedly at Severus "I would like to meet you downstairs in the kitchen. We have a talk long overdue."

_TBC..._

_AN: Thank you once more, dear readers for bearing with me. R&R! See you!_


End file.
